Vehiclearance

Vehicle.
Clearance.
Vehiclearance.

Yesterday, I went to where I had parked my car to find that my car wasn't parked there.

That's one of the worst feelings there is.

Sadness.
Especially.
Sadnespecially.

Other than suicidality, non-suicidal yet severe psychological depression, less severe but still habitual fairly debilitating depression, stubbing your toe really hard, and probably some others I'm not thinking of right now... Add your own!
(Either in your own head, in the comments section, or both!
And if you can do it in the comments section without doing it in your own head, bravo.)

Mental.
Talking.
Mentalking.

My car had been parked legally, so I called 311 (the information line, not the defunct band).

311 is just like 411 information, but only for a specific type of information. Which makes sense, because it's 100 less than 411.
(So if you have an emergency but you don't want as much help as possible, call 811.)

Emergency.
See Ya?
Emergencee Ya?

311 told me that they had no record of my car being towed.
Normally that's good news, to hear that your car hasn't been towed.
But when your car is gone, it's slightly more not good news.

I now found myself praying that my car HAD been towed, and there was just no record of it yet. (Some sort of vigilante cop towing but not doing the paperwork? A citizen tow-er?*

Vigilante.
Antidote.
Vigilantidote.

Long story (told by a) short (person):

After several more calls to 311, being connected to the ninth precinct of Manhattan which had jurisdiction over the region from which my car went missing, being disconnected from the ninth precinct, walking to the wrong location of the ninth precinct given to me by cops from another precinct while trying to get the ninth precinct back on the phone, eventually reaching them on the phone before I reached the wrong location of the ninth precinct and having a ninth precinct cop tell me the best thing to do would be to go back to where the car went missing from and call 911 and wait, meeting the 911 cops when they finally showed up and learning they were from the ninth precinct, those cops told me to meet them back at the CORRECT location of the ninth precinct.

That's where they said they could check lists of cars that had been moved (but not officially towed--vigilante cops, I was right! but there were lists, so official vigilante cops).

It turned out there had been a street fair in between when I parked and yesterday, and there had been no signs posted about it, so the cops just moved my car down a long block and around the corner.

Did you know they do that? They can just move your car. And you don't have to pay to get it out of a lot or anything, and it wasn't stolen; you just find it nearby and drive it away. Fascists!**

So all's well that started crappy.

Failures.
Resolution.
Failuresolution.


* Pronounced toe-er. Not like the word that follows "Eiffel."
(Though perhaps the citizen tow-er would bring the car to his tall citadel of unofficial justice, the Citizen Tower.
Which is the renamed Eiffel Tower which has been commandeered for this purpose.)

Eiffel.
Felony.
Eiffelony.


** Is that the definition of fascism? It's cool to say cops are fascists, right? Even when they eventually help you?

My apologies. Hooray, cops! Also, I didn't see any of them eating any donuts. Not really fascist, not many donuts... we're breaking down cop stereotypes left and right! If only I was a different race that is usually mistreated by the law, then this prejudice-dismantling trifecta would be complete.

Gallantry.
Trifecta.
Gallantrifecta.

Paradimebag

Paradigm.
Dimebag.
Paradimebag.

Marijuana has been decriminalized in a lot of places these days.
Better than jail, but you'll still want to keep your decriminal record as clean as possible.

Plus, you can still be ticketed and fined as though you've committed some kind of parking violation.

Hydrant.
Antics.
Hydrantics.

Now, I could make an easy joke here about how they'll ever collect with potheads forgetting to pay the fines (and I just did, barely), but sincerely, what will the authorities do when those violations pile up?

For parking tickets, eventually they'll put a boot on your car.
For pot, will the cops put a boot on your face?

That's just what they used to do before the decriminalization.
Has nothing changed?

Facial.
Shellacked.
Faciellacked.

Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe things are different.
Maybe they'll just tow you. Or your bong.

And have you work off your debt by washing dishes in prison.
Where you can get high by snorting dish soap, now also decriminalized.

Municipal.
Palmolive.
Municipalmolive.

Cheople

Cheap.
People.
Cheople.

An efficient way for anti-Semites to talk about Jews.

I performed recently at a retirement party for a Jewish cop.
His co-workers said he was being forced out after hurting his shoulder reaching for his wallet.

They clearly had the jokes under control. I was hardly necessary.
But I helped out anyway by suggesting he was just faking an injury to get everyone to pay for his night out. And get a free plaque. And a free pension from the state.

Jewish.
Wishing Well.
Jewishing Well.

They seemed happy about all that.
Stereotypes!

Anti-Semite.
Meistro.
Anti-Semeistro.

Policicle

Police.
Icicle.
Policicle.

I rode in the back of a squad car on this winter morning.
They were taking me AWAY from jail. That's the way you want to go (if they give you the choice)

I had walked to the station to report a theft.
I had given my roommate rent to give to the landlord (not a theft yet), he didn't give it to the landlord (almost theft/theft adjacent), and then when I found this out and asked for it back, he refused (theft time!).

When I asked for the money back, he said it belonged to the landlord.
I said, "But you didn't it to the landlord. It's either mine or his. Why would you keep it?"
He said, "I'm the mini-landlord." (That's not a thing.)

So here's what you can do when dealing with a person who thinks they're a thing that's not a thing...
Walk to the police station, tell them a reasonable and true story, and then take a ride back home with two officers, who will have the same conversation with the roommate that you did previously, only with the authority of legal knowledge and guns to back it up.

Turns out, possession isn't even close to being 9/10 of the law.
It's more like, the truth and a receipt are 10/10 of the law.
As such, he didn't get to keep 9/10 of the money. Or even 1/10.
Possession turns out to be 0/10 of the law, if you're breaking it.
(Also, sometimes possession is AGAINST the law. But that's a story for another day.)

For now, big ups to the police. (And yes, big downs to me for using the phrase "big ups." Or at least medium downs.)
But that doesn't matter, because the situation is totally in order.

My finances are in order. The police are in order. This whole damn courtroom didn't even have to be in order because it was settled at home.

Hooray the law. And civilized society. And especially police officers who didn't want to walk through the cold and their cars and their problem-solving.

Copper.
Perfect.
Copperfect.