Who’s the middle man with all that cash?

I got a parking ticket in the wee hours of the morning. Roughly 10 am. Who the hell is up at that hour writing tickets, a cartoon Rooster? I often wonder what the home life of these parking Gestapo is like; they must have exact sections on their counter where they keep the blender and toaster. If the bread some how comes to close to anything they get out a little tape measure to be sure and then put a sticky note under the little clip thing.

They are extorting me for $55, how precious is that spot that I have to pay $55 bucks to stay there. It’s in Sherman Oaks for “f” sakes, that’s Van Nuys adjacent. I should own that spot for at least a week at those prices. I’ve got no problem with the parking ticket system, but when it gets over $50 the glue on those little envelopes they give you should taste like peppermint. There is some middle man in this process that is making some fat cash. And I’m on a one man mission to give a shit about it for around half an hour then find some thing else that interests me, probably something that has boobs.

What would the sticky note on the bread say? Answer in the comment form below.

If you were in a dark alley with a parking enforcement officer what would you do, remember no witnesses? Answer in the comment form below.

JU
www.JamesTheComic.com