The Kid v. The System

“So the American government lied to the Native Americans for many, many years, and then President Clinton lied about a relationship, and everyone was surprised! A little naïve, I feel.”
- Eddie Izzard

So today one of my profs decided to extend class beyond the scheduled end period. Knowing I had a limited amount of time in the meter, I rushed out to find a ticket on my windshield. The parking meter vulture lady was two cars ahead. I hadn’t slept all week, had just endured a horrible class, and had zero patience whatsoever for this nonsense. I don’t know what came over me; it was like an out-of-body experience. I approached her window as she was issuing some other hapless victim a citation.

This is my best recollection of my outburst. Bear in mind I never raised my voice or technically “lost my temper,” I just started hemorrhaging from the mouth: “Excuse me, do you have a moment?” She looked up in surprise and did not reply. “I think it bears noting that if you consider the statistical distribution of parking tickets, a disproportionate amount are given to law students. I don’t know if that is because you dislike us, or you think we’re greedy ambulance chasers, or you are simply bitter about having to shovel our walk before everyone else’s, but I don’t think it’s fair for you to circle the law school like a vulture just waiting for a meter to change when the university already charges enough tuition each semester to feed and clothe all the children in four southeast Asian countries.” (By the way, I have no idea if this is accurate; just accept the hyperbole.) “And it bears noting that I put enough change in the meter to give myself fifteen minutes to pack up my books and walk out to my car after class. If I’d had any inkling that my professor would feel the need to subject us to a lengthy diatribe about the current state of the union after the scheduled end time of our class, I would have gladly put an extra quarter in the meter. But I don’t think I should be punished for failing to foresee my professor’s penchant for excessive banter.” At this point I realized I was rambling at a poor woman who was essentially gaping at me, quite clearly thinking, This kid’s going to climb in the truck and throttle me. Is she insane?

And yes, I’ve found that when I’m extremely irritated, I deploy an inordinately lengthy and convoluted vernacular.

A long pause ensued, and eventually she adopted a sheepish expression. Then she said, “I didn’t know about your situation. I’ll call in and cancel the ticket from the system.”

That really rankled me, and at this point I started proverbially spitting: “Oh, sure, like I’m supposed to believe that! In two weeks I’ll get a letter in the mail saying that, not only do I have to pay the ticket, but I also owe interest and a late fee! Sorry for disturbing you. I’ll let you get back to playing Sheriff of Nottingham.” (Which was the guy in Robin Hood who levied unpayable taxes on the rabbits living in the forest)

So I paid the ticket and put it in the little collection box.

When I came out a few hours later, the ticket was on my windshield with a note - “This citation was cancelled by the issuing officer. There is no amount due. Thank you, and have a nice day.”

One point for the п in the case of The Kid v. The System. One small win for a kid, one giant win for kidkind.