VILE SMILES

You can buy a Philadelphia Parking Authority tee shirts that read “Phucking Phascist Assholes”—it’s like the white person version of the “Stop Snitchin’” tee. The irony is that the majority of the people you see wearing these shirts are bike messengers that don’t even drive cars rather it’s just something else to rail against. But it’s Philly and the shirt has a variation of “fuck” on it so it does have the makings of a classic no-brainer. I’ll admit my own disdain for the Parking Authority but it’s all a result of my own laziness and inability to properly decipher parking signs written in my native tongue.

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I used to keep my car dirty so that it would not get broken into. Despite the fact I walked out to it one Monday morning a couple weeks ago with my driver side window all over the sidewalk and my GPS off to greener pastures to be used on a four wheeler during drug deals, I take pride in my filthy car –reasoning; that it at least prolonged the inevitable by a few months after moving back to Philly of my shit getting stolen. It’s the city, it happens; go chew your gum, whatever. It wasn’t exactly the “welcome to the neighborhood” fruit basket that I was hoping for but oddly it did make me feel more at home——This makes perfect sense because when I lived in LA people would ask, “What do you miss most about home?” I would reply, “Honestly? I just want someone to tell me to go fuck myself to my face”——so you can grasp the reasoning.

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As of then I was over the whole shit-box-car-thing and figured it would be awhile until lightning struck in the same place again. I finally got around to cleaning it out last week which is a real eye opener because I realized how much of a scumbag I am. There were the staple pieces of trash; socks, pens, water bottles, lager bottles, pieces of beef jerky, cigarette butts, and mystery chunks of asphalt——–I dug a hole in the middle of the street? Who the fuck knows. Then in addition to being a scumbag, there was evidence of a degenerate scofflaw—– 20 parking tickets; 10 of which were from Philly, the others from —Redondo Beach, City of LA, Burbank, and Pasadena.

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As can be seen I am the poster child for unpaid parking tickets. Actually I’m the poster child for not initially paying them within the first ten days, as my MO is waiting until they triple in price, have them threaten to boot my car, and then fork over the cash. I estimate I have spent about $5,000 in parking tickets across the country over just the last four years and have had my car booted twice. But it has been my own entire fault.

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Saturday morning a lovely couple beat and broke the wrist of a PPA employee as she was writing their vehicle up for a $15 ticket and it was after they were initially asked to move out of the no-parking spot. In my years of experience with the PPA, never once have I seen them ask the owner of a vehicle to move a car; rather they would covertly write the ticket, throw it on the windshield, then peace out. So right off the bat, these two slap dicks beat the shit out of the most understanding city employee that walks the streets of this cesspool. I know the cliché that kids get shot for shoes and I’m not naïve enough to be incapable of wrapping my head around this but seriously—where do you freaks come from? Oh wait I know the answer to that too. Here’s the deal—it’s a ticket. A fifteen dollar ticket. That’s one “Stop Snitchin’” tee shirt. What would this world be like if we were to follow your lead? I’m like the Pol Pot of parking tickets (assuming ticket-genocide comparisons are kosher) so surely things would be different……..

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Somewhere in Rittenhouse Ryan is strutting back to his car after getting a pedicure and his asshole waxed when all of a sudden he spots his car being ticketed.

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Ryan: Can I help you?

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PPA: I’m sorry sir you are over the limit. The meter says the time is expired.

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Ryan :I don’t think you understood. I mean can I help you? (gracefully opens his stylish pea coat (it’s winter) to reveal a surface to air nuclear missile)

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PPS: Is that a nuclear warhead? How did you manage to fit it under that beautiful coat? Anyway–Sir it’s a $35 ticket. You can plead not guilty. It’s really not that big of a deal.

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Ryan: No no. You guys have been doing your job for too long now. I should not have to be held accountable. (hits cool blinking button on bomb. Philadelphia blows up. Don’t worry, the Eagles would have choked anyway.)

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See? A pretty jerked off proposition but this is where we might be headed. So the next time you and your boo are all maxin’ and relaxn’, take it down a notch if your in a jam like this. You gots to chill.