Tuesday, December 14, 2004


I am on, my friends and neighbors, a motherfucking JIHAD against the District of Columbia Department of Motor Vehicles.

I haven't worked up this much righteous rage since, oh, some time in early November.

Listen to this atrocious miscarraige of justice.

Back in September, when this epic battle began, I left my house to find my car parked in its usual location. Only this time, a brazen pink citation flapped lasciviously from under the wiper. "Parking in a Public Place," it said.

How could this be? What on earth does that mean? I'm parked on my street, in front of my house, with my valid DC residential parking permit!

I fumed and stomped and like Scarlett O'Hara with the red dust of ravaged Georgia at her back, staring resolutely into the blood rust sunset, fist clenched in iron Dixie will, I vowed that I would never, never pay that $20. Throw your worst at me, you sovietskiy lavochniki!

Foolishly ascribing motives of logic to the pinheaded traffic cops, I assumed that my citation must be the result of a misunderstanding about the strange curve in the street. It makes a sudden jog inwards, and most people continue to park in a straight line, even though that's away from the curb. I just chose to turn in and park by the curb. Whatever.

Assuming they would sure crumble before my stellar logic and digital technology, I brought the trusty camera out to the scene of the atrocity, and created an easy-to-read visual representation of the misunderstanding. Here - there's the curb. See me parked by the curb? There - away from the curb - that's where people usually park. So, see? No problem?

I didn't hear anything for months. I could only assume they were so cowed and ashamed by their gross violations of human rights, that they could not bring themselves to even respond, and the matter was finished. Yesterday, a letter arrived from the DC DMV Adjudications Division, and I happily tore it open, expecting validation and humility.

Denied! Denied? And for what? I don't know. Now I totally know what "K" in Kafka's Trial, felt like. The form merely reitirates and clarifies: Parking in a Public Space means parking on Federal or DC Property, or parking without a proper permit.

The decision can be appealed for a fee that equals 50% of the already paltry sum of the ticket. If I win, the fee is returned. If I lose, it's a sunk cost. But it is not too much to risk FOR JUSTICE. Appeal I shall! In a blaze of righteous fury I have penned the most eloquent of appeals statements. Now that the nature of the violation has been clarified, I based my appeal on two simple points:
  • I was not parked on a public space. As the ticket clearly states, I was parked on the north side of F--- St., which is a RESIDENTIAL-ZONED STREET, YOU MORONS. I have parked here for the past TWO YEARS without incident.
  • I have, and records will show I have always had, a residential parking permit for Zone X. The north side of F---- St. is part of Zone X, BITCHES.
I sign, cordially, EAT IT.


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