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Donut Munching Cops And Their Ticket Quotas!

23 Sep

September 23, 2015

Before I begin, et’s enjoy some fine malt lyrics from House of Pain and their hit Jump Around.

Feelin, funky, amps in the trunk and I got more rhymes
than there’s cops at a Dunkin’ Donuts shop
Sho’ nuff, I got props
From the kids on the Hill plus my mom and my pops

Ah, pure musical genius! So why the musical interlude? (And is it really an interlude if you begin with it? But I digress.) Well, this post is about cops at a Dunkin’ Donuts shop. And of course I got mad props from the kids on the Hill, plus my mom and my pops, yo.

I rarely have run-ins with the po-po. Except for the time I was accused of dealing drugs and run out of Farmingdale I’ve never had a bad police experience. (BTW, that’s a true story. Click here to read my semi-harrowing tale of police intimidation.) But even then, ass-hats that the police were, at least they were doing their jobs. In this case, they were lazy and deliberately gave me a bad ticket to fill a quota and justify their dereliction of duty.

(But I still love you, NYPD! Don’t read this and think I am anti-police! I’m not! It’s just Mayor de Blassio I hate. #onetermmayor)

It was a Saturday a couple of weeks ago. I met Saarah for a quick breakfast at Dunkin’ Donuts. Yup, that’s me, the Big Spender. When I pulled up, there was a police car parked right in from of the store. I know, hard to believe, isn’t it? A cop car in front of a donut shop. The only thing that would have made it more perfect would have been if the cops were these guys:

I am a big Sir Stewart Wallace fan

I am a big Sir Stewart Wallace fan

They also happened be parked right next to the muni-meter. I parked right in front of them. I got out of the car and, being the total paranoid kook that I am, glanced at the cops to make sure they were not running my plates to see how many parking tickets I still hadn’t paid. (BTW, the answer is “none.” See how paranoid I am?) But they were just sitting there. One was reading a newspaper, the other was sipping coffee. I didn’t see any donuts but I guarantee the box was sitting on the seat between them and their uniforms were covered with cruller crumbs.

So I saw them, and since I saw them I know they saw me, since I saw them seeing me (I am writing this at 3am, can you tell?) and they saw me put money in the meter and walk back to my car and put the receipt on the dash. I paid for 45 minutes.

I will skip the details of my Dunkin’ Donuts snack, except to mention that I had neither coffee nor donuts.

We went back to the car and the cops were still sitting there. Saarah made a joke about cops and ticket quotas and how hard it is to fill them when you sit around parked eating donuts all day. (I will now take a dramatic pause while you say “Hey! That’s ironic!”)

We walked back to the car with almost ten minutes still left on the meter. I got in the car and almost, but not quite, turned the key when I saw something orange and evil under one of the wiper blades. It was a $35 ticket for not posting the receipt on my dashboard. With a single muttered “%$^&!” (Yes, I said it just like that) I grabbed the receipt off the dashboard, right where the officer claimed it was not, and took two steps toward the still parked police car-

-which pulled away from the curb and drove away.

They saw me. I was right directly in front of them the whole time. They saw me take the ticket off the window. They saw me grab the receipt. They saw me walk toward them. They saw me look like an idiot as I watched them drive away with, I am sure, mocking laughter.

The two officers sat in front of the donut shop for at least 45 minutes doing nothing. They had to show some activity, I guess, so instead of saying that they were sitting around goofing off, they made it look like they were giving out parking tickets. And they were smart about it too. They couldn’t give me a ticket for not paying the meter or running out of time, which the receipt would easily prove false. They gave me a ticket for not displaying it, so it really comes down to my word against theirs.

I already pled not guilty online, and if I have to, I will sit in traffic court all day and make those lazy SOBs appear so I can call them liars to their faces.

Unless I can’t make it that day.


My Untitled Novel Project, Part 1

9 Aug

August 9, 2015

The Time: Now
The Place: The Kremlin

Vladimir Putin has assembled all of his most trusted Communist Party leaders. Standing at the head of a long conference table, Putin dims the lights as a video screen blinks to life behind him. On it is a map of Europe. He leans forward.

“Thank you all for coming here on such short notice.”

The others smile small, tight smiles. Some nod, others simply look straight ahead. They were all summoned out of their beds mere minutes ago.

“As you know, it is our Russian destiny to put our stamp on the world.” As he speaks, the Russian hammer and sickle appears on the view screen above every European capital. “What most of you don’t know is that our destiny is now. It begins tonight.”

The assembled men shift slightly in their seats, glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes, careful to maintain the smiles on their faces. None want to appear disloyal.

Putin pauses. He looks at each of the men, mentally cataloging which he can trust and which will “disappear” this night. After a deliberately long silence, he gestures to the screen.

“And this is how our dominion begins.”

The picture on the screen changes, dissolving into recent news footage. Now the smiles of the men fade. They openly stare at each other. They have seen the news footage before. It is from a recent Japanese tragedy, and all of them are afraid of what it may mean. Of what Putin may mean.

“This, comrades, this is how we will rule the world!” Putin presses a button, and the video freezes, with one single, terrifying image lighting the darkened room. It is reflected in the glasses of the other men, on their shiny medals, and in their fear-struck eyes.

It is Godzilla.


Hey, what do you think? Is this a winner or what? Didn’t that have you on the edge of your seat? I don’t want to give too much away, but crazy ol’ Putin has found a way to control Godzilla, and he going to use him to destroy the world. Will he succeed? Can he be stopped? And what the heck do Gummy Bears have to do with it? You’ll just have to wait and find out!

(It might be a long wait. That’s all I wrote.)


He’s a bad man!


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