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Here's that second round of towing tales I promised, since I just ran out of steam while logging that first batch. But now that it's Friday night, I got nothing better to do than a little creative writing workshop here and draining out the swamp that is my mental archives.
Hello Fraudsters My Old Friend... I've Come to Talk to You Again.
Wow, I was almost certain that tampering with permits had become a lost art, having gone almost a year without seeing one.
And now? Two in one week!
FIG 1. - THE RORSCHACH
No, it's not when you dare Dr. Manhattan to smite you....
This occurs when you use an overly-wet felt-tip marker in concert with a bit too much finger pressure in the course of your forgery:
Observe
As you can see, the ink doesn't lie on the surface as much as it gets injected right into the heart of the paper, spreading out like a Liberian-flagged oil tanker and giving your digits the appearance of ink blots that desperately need professional psychoanalysis.
It's very similar to the "Zoinks Scoob!" mistake of writing on a fake with too much ambient moisture present, causing little rivulets of ink to wick out away from your letters, causing them to appear root-like and, well, Shaggy.
You failed at that point, Good Sir.
But, if I had needed extra evidence, a three-strikes threshold if you will, you delivered there as well. As you can see the "sticker" is taped on the glass, and the serial number has been oh-so-daintily modified with just the smallest little chef's kiss of WHITE OUT FLUID under that "2" since you probably "borrowed" a buddies permit to make that one.
At least you had the cognizance to realize that having identical serials was a bad idea. (Congrats, you've figured out something Hollywood is taking 30+ years to learn! TAKE THAT!
)
Pro Tip: changing serial numbers also carries the extra hazard that by bumping yours up or down, even by a measly one, you may accidentally enter a number range that doesn't exist, or, hasn't been issued yet.
(Just to humor myself, I checked in at the rental office on my way out with your car, and sure enough, that number permit was still in the secretary's desk.
)
Photographed it just in case you REALLY wanted to fight me later that yours wasn't a home-brew.
To your rapidly-diminishing credit, you didn't argue with us that it was a fake, but you did seem very incensed that such a thing was in any way worthy of being TOWED, loudly proclaiming "Did you see how many open spaces there are in that lot? It's not like I NEEDED a real one!" upon learning why you got the hook.
(And yet, that outburst just proves you knew the rules, and so do I [/RickRoll]
)
What kind of "logic" was that?! Negative Reverse Hyperbolic Moon Logic? That's not even an excuse, much less a GOOD one..... "So what if I gave you a counterfeit $20? Did you see how much REAL cash was in that till?" That it?
But at least yours was CLOSE to the intended target, as in you at least hit the haybales the target was on, even if you missed the paper bullseye. When the goal is to defraud one particular property and the whole world is technically in play, at least picking the right congressional district has to count for something, right?
But wait! Gets better! I took note of the car that dropped our little fraudster off to pick his up. I noted it also had a permit for that same complex that was looking a bit sus' - it was also held onto the glass by tape and had a funny-looking pattern of goosebumps, resembling those on a basketball, all over it's surface. Like the kind that you may imprint on a permit you peeled off your window and then fed into a scanner and held the lid shut on it real tight? And then found it wouldn't re-stick to the window requiring you to use tape? Oh, and its' serial was off the fake's by one digit...
Took down said number and discreetly rang the rental office secretary again, asked if that one was issued and if so, was it on a black Subaru by chance?
That one WAS legit and issued to that car.... whose owner just so happened to call the office and ask to purchase more parking in the last 30 minutes.... gee, wonder why?
I informed the office that said person had indeed been the one who supplied the "blank" for the fake with 99% certainty based on the above listed circumstantial evidence.
Office informs me that they'll accordingly call back said person and deny the request for additional permits on one count of being an accessory to a scofflaw
So there you have it, a fraud so bad it not only got you canned, but you took a buddy down with you.
Golf clap?
Golf clap!
FIG 2. - IT'D BE SHORTER TO JUST LIST WHAT HE DID RIGHT
The next fellow to try and get a forgery past my detection also missed the target. And the haybales, and the range, and the farm too, ultimately lodging an arrow in some poor unfortunate footman in a totally different castle when it was all over. He got almost NOTHING right, except the address of where to go and pick up his car at the end of the journey.
See, his was so bad, I didn't even recognize at as an ATTEMPTED forgery until it was already back at base being checked for damages to note on the impound sheet.
That was when I noted the "permit" in the window, originally thought to be for some other apartment complex entirely, was just a shoddy attempt at a permit for the one he got towed FROM.
How shoddy? You ask? Shoddier than a whimsical dancing hobo from a Fleischer Studio cartoon... complete with bindle stick, toeless boots, polka-dot knee patches, and top hat with the lid coming off like an opened can of beans! Wait, THAT IS JUST A CAN OF BEANS!
Here's what a genuine article looks like.
Here's what his fake looked like.
I decided to tally up the mistakes for jollies. You kids at home can try it too!
Here's what my innermost psyche looked like when I had finished counting them all.
You see, in addition to seven critical failures, any single one of which would've clearly said "fraud" by itself, he had most damningly, misspelled "SPACE" as "SAPCE"
Yes, "SAPCE"
Sapce? The Final Forntier? *sigh* Beam me back aboard starship Etnerprise, Mister Soctt, there's no intelligent life down here.
Fig 3 - MASS PRODUCTION, MASS HUMILIATION.
Now, I didn't find this one, the maintenance man for Wrong Side of the Tracks Reality did. Or rather, had it served up to him (and had SUCH an experience over it that he simply HAD to write me about it!)
He was minding his own work at 515 Easy St. when a car pulls up and the driver asks him "Do you work here?"
(Nah bro, the guy in the pickup full of DeWalt toolboxes that says "WSOTT REALITY" on the door who is currently loading up a deceased washing machine does that all as a hobby)
"Yeah"
"Hey, are these permits good for parking here?"
"Lemme see"
Kid hands maintenance man a sheet of paper. On said piece of paper, is a 3 x 5 grid of "permits" that clearly came out of a computer printer not too long ago. They say "Wrong Side of the Tracks - 515 Easy St " on them, but, they are obvious, OBVIOUS forgeries, created by scanning an original and then copypasting it to fill a page. (clearly printed in blue on white paper too, real WSOTTs are blue to start with).
"Heh, no"
"Well, then where are they good for?"
"Nowhere"
"Huh? Waddaya mean?"
"These are fakes, kid."
"uh... no they....aren't"
"Yeah, they are"
"Uh... that's what they gave me at the office, honest!"
"Kid, my Sister, who works in the rental office and handles the parking passes has them made up by a professional printer and they come to her already cut and ready to go, she issues them one-at-a-time, she does NOT issue whole pages of them and they don't come on junk paper like this"
"Oh, uh.... so, can I like, have those back?"
"Nope"
*Maintence man crumples sheet up into oblivion*
"HEY! What are you doing?!"
"Told you, these are fake, I'm throwing them out"
"But.... but I paid like $20 for those!"
"Tough crap, kid, get lost and tell whoever you bought them from to knock it off or I'll evict their ass."
And there you have it, this week's winner of the Sad Trombone Award for Self-Inflicted Parking Humiliation goes to..... envelope please, THAT KID!
Hooray!
I'd like to thank the Academy, our Maintenance Professionals, His Mom, Dad and possibly too much pesticide runoff in the drinking water supply during his prenatal years for making it all possible!
And what have we learned today? Class?
That you should not aspire to being a master forger when you, clearly, can barely aspire to being able to operate a food-processor at home without causing the loss of someone's limbs.
Spider Scam! Spider Scam!
Does whatever a Spider Scam does!
So, we go out to tow a vehicle that was called in to us for not having a permit. (SHOCKER!)
The lot monitor gave us the make, model, color and plate, but also noted we wouldn't have much trouble finding it on account of it being "pretty roughed up".
Randy gets on scene and finds that to be an accurate description.
It would appear the owner has attempted valiantly to shorten his commute to work by forcibly clipping through the world map, ignoring all the tagged "wall" sectors, with little success.
All four corners of the car missing large chunks of plastic from the bumpers, which no longer line up with the contours of their respective hood/trunk, the driver's side door is severely scraped up with different colored paints and the quarter panels look to have recently attended a seminar on the malleability of sheet metal, hosted by one Dr. Denton Fender.
But the absolute piece d' resistance is his windshield. It's cracked.
And not just one of those single jagged jobbies, this one is the kind with enough multiple paths branching from a common central point that it could serve as a pre-made flow chart for conspiracy theorists. In the parlance of automobile glazing, this one is "Spiderwebbed".
How can you even SEE through that mess to drive? How has no cop pulled you over for it? It's a mystery.
What's not a mystery is what may have caused it.
Looks like something cantaloupe-sized hit it from the inside, at just about the spot above the steering wheel where an unsecured person's noggin would go in a minor crash or series of even-smaller crashes.. maybe that's why it seems like a good idea to you to keep motoring around viewing the world through a literal cracked lens.... perhaps you miraculously received a Dain-Brammaging Concussion (tm) that warped your vision so the warped picture you get while driving cancels out?
Whatever.
Fifteen minutes later and the beauty is back in our lot.
Then, a bit later than that, said owner comes into the office for it.
And despite it being dark, despite it being rainy, despite it being parked a good 30 yards from the gate, with the front pointing AWAY from you as you walk in.. despite all that?
Yep, the INSTANT the owner's feet touch the dirt of the impound yard he turns to Randy and yells "WHAT'D YOU DO TO MY WINDSHIELD?!" So much for the concussion theory.
"we didn't do anything" says Randy.
"Then why's it busted?"
"It was like that when I towed it"
"UN UHHHH! You broke it! And you owe me a new one!"
Randy, having very little desire to stand out in the pouring rain tells the guy that they can go back into the towing office, and they'll download the pics the lot monitor took of the car before he called it in that clearly shows the pre-busted condition. 15 minutes before we even got within sniffing distance of it.
Our lot monitor has upgraded to a cellphone app to do all his ticketing instead of the old palm pilot he used to have (until the EPA shut it down for failing new smog checks and the possibility that, even tethered, he might fatally stab someone through the eye with the stylus for all the grief he gets for writing tickets, just like us).
This means that now we can and do have him take pictures of every car he wants towed before we get there. Not only to guard against claims that we towed cars with permits but also these kinds of extremely false extended-warranty claims..... which means we have a minimum of two pictures of every car now, one front and one back, and the front shot clearly shows it's busted.
Guy must think this is a bluff, so he says "Do it, I KNOW it wasn't broken!"
Randy downloads the pics and brings them up fullscreen on the office computer... oh look at that big, ol, gorgeous asterisk right in your windshield.... just like we said!
"Oh, yeah, I guess it was that way..." says the guy who slinks out much less sure of himself than he was 20 seconds ago.
Laziest attempt at a free windshield, ever. Friend-o.
See, while all that other assorted battle damage on the Spider Car is passable, the one thing that no legit garage will pass on yearly safety inspections is a windshield that's cracked. Even a measly 2 incher will fail you, our Commonwealth doesn't have any exceptions for size or location. If it's cracked, even in the farthest corner on the passenger side by the smallest amount? You get the "sad car horn" sound from The Price is Right and need to replace it to pass. Or, you could go find a "lick and stick" operation where the number of fail items is inversely proportional to how many $20's you have on your person. No wonder he was just salivating at the chance to have us foot the bill.
Run along, you rapscallion, and next time, you know what? Forget it, there won't be a "next time" if you keep driving around hard enough to mash your noggin on the regular, you won't be needing us, you'll be needing a neurologist and maybe a fresh pine box.... now, take your Spider Car and get outta here.
And now, to thoroughly belabor a joke, ahem:
Spider Car
Spider Car
If you owned it
You wouldn't get far.
Everywhere you parked?
People would look!
Without a permit
It'll surely be hooked!
Watch out!
There goes your Spider Car!
GET OFF YOUR PROPERTY! OH, AND GIMMIE SOME MONEY, PLEASE?
Friendly Neighborhood Towing sits just off the Main Drag of this town, the primary North-South artery that all the residential and commercial districts fall in line with.
Now, due to the way the particular neighborhood we're in is laid out, all the side streets meet up with Main Drag at an acute angle, giving our shop's property, if viewed from the air, a shape akin to a.... a... a... you know? It's one of those things my geometry teacher told me I'd have to know some day or I'd never get in to clown college......
*checks*
Ah, a Rhombus! Take THAT Mrs. Brown! Google has rendered your dire predictions of what would happen to me if I didn't pay attention in your class useless, utterly USELESS!!! The nerds got their revenge on me by inventing the internet and making me a slave to it, but you? HA! I remain undefeated by your pesky maths! WHO really won? Huh?
Now where were we? Oh, yes.... our property boundaries.
Because the garage / office itself is square, plopping it down on the Rhomboid SimCity-style means you get these two roughly- triangular areas on either end.
The Northern one is our fenced impound, and the southern one is, basically, everyone else, including service customer cars, employee cars and things that end up here with an ultimate disposition of "Other: please explain". With no need to secure these cars since they aren't going anywhere, there is no fence around this other triangle lot or gate at the entrance.
Now, if any of us out there in the public-facing sector know anything, it's that people are lazy ignoramuses.
So would it surprise you if I told you that one of the constant irritants in life is people traversing the neighborhood on the way towards or from Main Drag cutting through this one parking lot to save themselves the trouble of having to walk around the perimeter on the provided pathway? Thereby introducing the new problem of them possibly becoming pedestrian pate' on the bumper of something that's backing up without expecting them to be there? While obliviously texting/bebpoing to music? Blissfully unaware that they're risking their own life and making mine harder? And then get mad at YOU for being in the way? Would that surprise anyone?
(To the person about to put their hand up just to be contrarian, I'd like to remind you, this gun IS loaded. Stay seated and keep your hands inside this ride at all times)
Thought so....
The point of all this leadup is to explain why when I cut a turn off of Main Drag the other day to start another shift at the towing mines, I wasn't surprised to find a person standing still right in the middle of the entryway to the lot, well beyond the sidewalk, forcing me to bring my car to a halt less I pancake him with the rear tires still in the street.
He's got his back turned to me and is apparently dithering on a phone or something, I expect he'll be on his way momentarily, or at least pick a side so I can just drive around him, so I don't think much of it.
Instead, he notices me out of the corner of his eye, turns, and.... with a mighty frown scolds me with:
"CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?!"
Woah, I know what the prize in your cereal box was this morning! A free bad attitude! Seriously, I have not honked my horn, revved my engine, shouted slurs or done anything except stop short of running over someone, and spent about 5 seconds in silence just mentally processing the unexpected situation.
Your inexplicable decision to go from "Just Some Dude" to "Douchenozzle" has now made that STUNNED silence.... until I remember you asked me a question:
"Uh, no, not really, don't need any help"
"Well WHY are you HERE?!"
"Because I was planning on parking my car"
"And WHY do you want to do THAT?!"
"Uh, because I work here?"
"REALLY?!"
"Yes, really"
So, Mister Short Fuse steps aside and I find a nice open stall for my metallic steed about 5 or so spots in. But, as I'm clambering out, I see him approach me again. Oh, terrific, now he probably wants to complain about my attitude and report me to the Manager or something... (sigh) I'm not even on the clock yet....... literally too early in the morning for this.
Hey!.
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go
*through clenching teeth* Yeeeeessssssssssssss?
Look man, I , uh, I got my car towed and don't have the money to get it back, I was wondering if you can just loan me....
Aw Hell naw... *Cuts him off* Sorry Sir, but I have to get on the clock, if you have an issue with a tow, the man to talk to is the Towing Manager, he's up front in the office if you go around the corner of the building to our front door.
I already talked to him and he won't cut me a break!
Well, I'm sorry then, there's nothing I can do *walks briskly to side door that goes directly to service*
Aw, come on! All I need is just forty bucks! That's all! Jus... (he goes to try and follow me in)
*Cuts off again* Sorry, Sir, Employees Only *taps EMPLOYEES ONLY sign on door*
Whew.... that was certainly a bi-polar experience!
Man goes from unprovoked rage to pleading for my favor in under 30 seconds?
What side of bed in what dimension do you have to wake up in to think that loitering on our property, blocking me from getting in to do my job and finally getting churlish with me for no reason at all would make me in ANY way want to engage in ANY kind of financial transaction with you? Especially one that I'm almost certain would end with red ink for me?
Why? What was your motive because I'm trying to figure it out right now and... and... uh..... uh...... uh...
*brain cell was ejected. 10 brain cells remain*
See? I couldn't do it!
As soon as I got inside, I went to see Towing Manager and informed him the guy he refused to cut a deal with about his towed car is now on the side parking lot trying to get a loan from the public.
Towing Manager looks at me funny... well, funnier than he usually does, and says that he didn't talk to anyone about a towed car today and has no idea what I'm talking about.
In fact, we don't have ANYTHING in impound right now.....
Oh, now I get it.
Angry man was just a regular ol' scammer. Well, now it all makes sense.... and yes, I'm very very VERY disappointed in humanity that I just now typed that out not as a joke, but as the God's Honest truth. But what can you do?
Until they change the laws, we just have to wait for people like them to die naturally on their own before rendering their body fats into biofuel so they can be a net benefit to society for once....
Order Up! One Deluded Entrepreneur, To Go!
What's more American than capitalism? And what's more capitalist than externalizing your costs to others without their knowledge?
Specifically, you seem to have started some kind of DoorDash competitor service and made your car a marked food delivery vehicle and started parking it in the marked delivery driver space in the lot.
So far, so good.
Here's the problem, that space isn't for ANY old delivery driver, it's for the one who works out of the actual restaurant on the ground floor of that building, and pays an extra $1500 a year to have just that space for them as well as higher rental rate for the prime storefront.
You, who live in the apartments above the restaurant, and pay regular student rates for rent are not entitled to use it on a regular-rate parking permit and a home-made sign. I have a feeling this was explained in your lease which is why the building maintenance man AND restaurant owner approached me with a tow-on-sight orders for your car after you rather bluntly informed both of them you intended to use that spot whenever you felt like it because "You [sic] have a permit for this lot and are a delivery driver, so that means you [sic] can use the space"
You further reacted to the tickets they directed the lot monitor to start giving to your car in an effort to chase you off as "stalking".
And, you called the final hand-typed note to the windshield direct from the building OWNER informing you that since the warning shots concerning your continued parking insolence have been ignored, the next round will feature live towing ammunition nothing but an annoyance (or, as you less eloquently put it: Bull*hit) since "They know who I am! This is ridiculous!"
So, that's why your car finally ended up on the wrong side of our fence today, not because we "don't understand" the situation.
We understand it just fine, as outlined above. You kept doing that which you are not allowed to do and were continually told to stop doing until your compliance was ensured by force
If you can't see how it all escalated from "please don't" to a Super Size order of Pwnage, with your choice of any two sides, including biscuits, coleslaw, french fries and tow dollies? Well, then I worry about your future genetic descendants, to say the least.
Aяgabaяga's Nemesis
And now, from pigheaded capitalism, to pigheaded communism.
Several times now, three if I am counting correctly, I have driven past one of our lots at 668 Great Eastern Drive in the morning to find that at some point overnight our "PRIVATE PARKING" signs have been vandalized by a budding Junior Bolshevik who has an irresistible urge to put a hammer and sickle on them with spray paint.
Perhaps he thinks this public declaration that the lot now belongs to the proletariat at last will cause the bourgeoisie tow trucks to have to suspend their operations?
Spoiler: It don't work that way
Fortunately, our signs are made of layered plastic laminate on the base metal so that paint-based attacks like this don't "stick", all it takes is a rag, some thinner borrowed from the body shop's paint booth and about 20 minutes of cussing and rubbing and they come right off....
Only to be back again the next day...
As I said, I have no idea WHY he keeps doing this.
Much like running from the repo man, consider for a second the incredible disadvantage you're at:
You presumably are doing this at your own cost, both in your time and supplies being spent for no material gain.
And I, in true capitalist fashion, am getting PAID to undo it with FREE supplies and a FREE headache for the rest of the day from the thinner fumes.
You really think you're going to win this rather one-sided fight?
I guess we'll find out tomorrow. But be warned. If I ever personally catch you, know that thinner is the weakest chemical I can deploy. If I really wanted you to learn a lesson, I could move all the way up to the jellied aircraft stripper.
Yeah, Stripper.
You don't want that, is not right kind of stripper, comrade, less like Svetlana and more like quality of food in gulag! Is found in body shop behind door with big pirate flag on it and you don't even touch that cabinet without rubber glove! Will take moustache right off of Stalin poster!
Subsidizing Your Own Failures
To the guy who noticed we were towing a car for excessive parking meter tickets, and decided to White Knight for them by first hurling obscenities at us from an open window and then quickly running out of the building and feeding the other 5 meters in the lot that cars were at? While giving us a sarcastic "Ooops! Sorry!" and a middle finger? I didn't have the heart to tell him, but, those 5 other cars don't HAVE to pay the meters, one is a maintenance man's car, one is a municipal vehicle with guv-ment plates (probably doing some code enforcement) and the other 3 are delivery drivers for the stores on the ground floor. All exempt from parking tickets and therefore also exempt from being towed for tickets. So you really did nothing except earn a meager deduction on your taxes next year for charity work.......
You literally spent your money for nothing, and didn't even get the chicks for free!
Hopping Madly to Conclusions
Friendly Neighborhood Towing - We'll tow you when you're trying to go home, and we'll tow you when you're there all alone.... EVERYBODY must get towed! How can I help you?
What's that?
Uh, speak a little slower and a little less vulgar, Sir. I'm having trouble telling if this is a phone call right now or an old Adolph Hitler radio speech still hovering in the Earth's ionosphere that this ancient desk phone might still be able to pick up.
Ah, that's better. Now... uh huh..... mmmm hummm... Yes, now, Sir...
No Sir, we didn't tow your Son for having paper temporary plates on his car. Yes Sir, we are totally aware that paper temps are good for 90 days from issuance, at which point you need to get a permanent metal tag. Yes, you're absolutely right, Sir: you are entitled to park at your apartment even if the car has temp tags. Yes, it would be illegal to suggest otherwise... which is why I'm not.... Sir.... Sir? Yes, you are completely in the right to file complaints with any number of regulatory agencies, this is a free country.... yes, you can sue us too, but.... Sir.... Sir? SIR?! Can you give me a minute here, Sir?
Okay, good, now, as I was trying to say, we didn't tow your Son for having temporary tags.
You see, he got towed for not having a PARKING PERMIT for the lot he was in, not the kind of plates he had on his car.
Why did we tell him that the T-tags were the reason he got towed? We didn't, Sir.
He says we did? We'll, he's just flat out wrong, Sir. What happened was, he called looking for his car, which he described to us as "a black Cobalt" At the time, we had TWO black Cobalts in inventory. With the most obvious way to quickly tell them apart being one had paper temps, and one did not.
So, we asked him, "Does yours have paper temp tags? It does? Then yes, we have it" and at that point, before we could say anything else, your Son hung up the phone on us.
It would appear he immediately drew some hasty but incorrect conclusions about his tow and then called you and passed them on..... and you accepted them without question.
Yes, we're absolutely sure that's what happened.
No, we never even GOT to telling him the reason for the tow. Which was for no permit. Yes, no permit.
He had a permit, you say? How could he have been towed for no permit when you BOUGHT him one for that lot? You say? And he says he was using it, you say?
Well, about that.... He parked at the WRONG apartment, his permit was good for #6 at 111 Osmium Way, he parked at #6, 320 Osmium Way, that's two blocks down and on the wrong side of the street from where he was SUPPOSED to be.
Why did your Son do that? You ask?
I dunno, maybe, juuuuuuuuuuuuuuust maybe... there's a chronic lack of comprehension endemic to his family tree? It's just a theory.... but I got a few ideas on where he picked it up from.
At least Dad apologized at the end, that rarely happens. Especially when they start telling Dad jokes. You know? The kind that go "Why do people laugh at mountains? Cuz' they're hill areas!"
Aaaaaaand, sleep.
Hello Fraudsters My Old Friend... I've Come to Talk to You Again.
Wow, I was almost certain that tampering with permits had become a lost art, having gone almost a year without seeing one.
And now? Two in one week!
FIG 1. - THE RORSCHACH
No, it's not when you dare Dr. Manhattan to smite you....
This occurs when you use an overly-wet felt-tip marker in concert with a bit too much finger pressure in the course of your forgery:
Observe
As you can see, the ink doesn't lie on the surface as much as it gets injected right into the heart of the paper, spreading out like a Liberian-flagged oil tanker and giving your digits the appearance of ink blots that desperately need professional psychoanalysis.
It's very similar to the "Zoinks Scoob!" mistake of writing on a fake with too much ambient moisture present, causing little rivulets of ink to wick out away from your letters, causing them to appear root-like and, well, Shaggy.
You failed at that point, Good Sir.
But, if I had needed extra evidence, a three-strikes threshold if you will, you delivered there as well. As you can see the "sticker" is taped on the glass, and the serial number has been oh-so-daintily modified with just the smallest little chef's kiss of WHITE OUT FLUID under that "2" since you probably "borrowed" a buddies permit to make that one.
At least you had the cognizance to realize that having identical serials was a bad idea. (Congrats, you've figured out something Hollywood is taking 30+ years to learn! TAKE THAT!
) Pro Tip: changing serial numbers also carries the extra hazard that by bumping yours up or down, even by a measly one, you may accidentally enter a number range that doesn't exist, or, hasn't been issued yet.
(Just to humor myself, I checked in at the rental office on my way out with your car, and sure enough, that number permit was still in the secretary's desk.
)Photographed it just in case you REALLY wanted to fight me later that yours wasn't a home-brew.
To your rapidly-diminishing credit, you didn't argue with us that it was a fake, but you did seem very incensed that such a thing was in any way worthy of being TOWED, loudly proclaiming "Did you see how many open spaces there are in that lot? It's not like I NEEDED a real one!" upon learning why you got the hook.
(And yet, that outburst just proves you knew the rules, and so do I [/RickRoll]
)What kind of "logic" was that?! Negative Reverse Hyperbolic Moon Logic? That's not even an excuse, much less a GOOD one..... "So what if I gave you a counterfeit $20? Did you see how much REAL cash was in that till?" That it?
But at least yours was CLOSE to the intended target, as in you at least hit the haybales the target was on, even if you missed the paper bullseye. When the goal is to defraud one particular property and the whole world is technically in play, at least picking the right congressional district has to count for something, right?
But wait! Gets better! I took note of the car that dropped our little fraudster off to pick his up. I noted it also had a permit for that same complex that was looking a bit sus' - it was also held onto the glass by tape and had a funny-looking pattern of goosebumps, resembling those on a basketball, all over it's surface. Like the kind that you may imprint on a permit you peeled off your window and then fed into a scanner and held the lid shut on it real tight? And then found it wouldn't re-stick to the window requiring you to use tape? Oh, and its' serial was off the fake's by one digit...
Took down said number and discreetly rang the rental office secretary again, asked if that one was issued and if so, was it on a black Subaru by chance?
That one WAS legit and issued to that car.... whose owner just so happened to call the office and ask to purchase more parking in the last 30 minutes.... gee, wonder why?
I informed the office that said person had indeed been the one who supplied the "blank" for the fake with 99% certainty based on the above listed circumstantial evidence.
Office informs me that they'll accordingly call back said person and deny the request for additional permits on one count of being an accessory to a scofflaw
So there you have it, a fraud so bad it not only got you canned, but you took a buddy down with you.
Golf clap?
Golf clap!
FIG 2. - IT'D BE SHORTER TO JUST LIST WHAT HE DID RIGHT
The next fellow to try and get a forgery past my detection also missed the target. And the haybales, and the range, and the farm too, ultimately lodging an arrow in some poor unfortunate footman in a totally different castle when it was all over. He got almost NOTHING right, except the address of where to go and pick up his car at the end of the journey
. See, his was so bad, I didn't even recognize at as an ATTEMPTED forgery until it was already back at base being checked for damages to note on the impound sheet.
That was when I noted the "permit" in the window, originally thought to be for some other apartment complex entirely, was just a shoddy attempt at a permit for the one he got towed FROM.
How shoddy? You ask? Shoddier than a whimsical dancing hobo from a Fleischer Studio cartoon... complete with bindle stick, toeless boots, polka-dot knee patches, and top hat with the lid coming off like an opened can of beans! Wait, THAT IS JUST A CAN OF BEANS!
Here's what a genuine article looks like.
Here's what his fake looked like.
I decided to tally up the mistakes for jollies. You kids at home can try it too!
Here's what my innermost psyche looked like when I had finished counting them all.
You see, in addition to seven critical failures, any single one of which would've clearly said "fraud" by itself, he had most damningly, misspelled "SPACE" as "SAPCE"
Yes, "SAPCE"
Sapce? The Final Forntier? *sigh* Beam me back aboard starship Etnerprise, Mister Soctt, there's no intelligent life down here.
Fig 3 - MASS PRODUCTION, MASS HUMILIATION.
Now, I didn't find this one, the maintenance man for Wrong Side of the Tracks Reality did. Or rather, had it served up to him (and had SUCH an experience over it that he simply HAD to write me about it!)
He was minding his own work at 515 Easy St. when a car pulls up and the driver asks him "Do you work here?"
(Nah bro, the guy in the pickup full of DeWalt toolboxes that says "WSOTT REALITY" on the door who is currently loading up a deceased washing machine does that all as a hobby)
"Yeah"
"Hey, are these permits good for parking here?"
"Lemme see"
Kid hands maintenance man a sheet of paper. On said piece of paper, is a 3 x 5 grid of "permits" that clearly came out of a computer printer not too long ago. They say "Wrong Side of the Tracks - 515 Easy St " on them, but, they are obvious, OBVIOUS forgeries, created by scanning an original and then copypasting it to fill a page. (clearly printed in blue on white paper too, real WSOTTs are blue to start with).
"Heh, no"
"Well, then where are they good for?"
"Nowhere"
"Huh? Waddaya mean?"
"These are fakes, kid."
"uh... no they....aren't"
"Yeah, they are"
"Uh... that's what they gave me at the office, honest!"
"Kid, my Sister, who works in the rental office and handles the parking passes has them made up by a professional printer and they come to her already cut and ready to go, she issues them one-at-a-time, she does NOT issue whole pages of them and they don't come on junk paper like this"
"Oh, uh.... so, can I like, have those back?"
"Nope"
*Maintence man crumples sheet up into oblivion*
"HEY! What are you doing?!"
"Told you, these are fake, I'm throwing them out"
"But.... but I paid like $20 for those!"
"Tough crap, kid, get lost and tell whoever you bought them from to knock it off or I'll evict their ass."
And there you have it, this week's winner of the Sad Trombone Award for Self-Inflicted Parking Humiliation goes to..... envelope please, THAT KID!
Hooray!
I'd like to thank the Academy, our Maintenance Professionals, His Mom, Dad and possibly too much pesticide runoff in the drinking water supply during his prenatal years for making it all possible!
And what have we learned today? Class?
That you should not aspire to being a master forger when you, clearly, can barely aspire to being able to operate a food-processor at home without causing the loss of someone's limbs.
Spider Scam! Spider Scam!
Does whatever a Spider Scam does!
So, we go out to tow a vehicle that was called in to us for not having a permit. (SHOCKER!)
The lot monitor gave us the make, model, color and plate, but also noted we wouldn't have much trouble finding it on account of it being "pretty roughed up".
Randy gets on scene and finds that to be an accurate description.
It would appear the owner has attempted valiantly to shorten his commute to work by forcibly clipping through the world map, ignoring all the tagged "wall" sectors, with little success.
All four corners of the car missing large chunks of plastic from the bumpers, which no longer line up with the contours of their respective hood/trunk, the driver's side door is severely scraped up with different colored paints and the quarter panels look to have recently attended a seminar on the malleability of sheet metal, hosted by one Dr. Denton Fender.
But the absolute piece d' resistance is his windshield. It's cracked.
And not just one of those single jagged jobbies, this one is the kind with enough multiple paths branching from a common central point that it could serve as a pre-made flow chart for conspiracy theorists. In the parlance of automobile glazing, this one is "Spiderwebbed".
How can you even SEE through that mess to drive? How has no cop pulled you over for it? It's a mystery.
What's not a mystery is what may have caused it.
Looks like something cantaloupe-sized hit it from the inside, at just about the spot above the steering wheel where an unsecured person's noggin would go in a minor crash or series of even-smaller crashes.. maybe that's why it seems like a good idea to you to keep motoring around viewing the world through a literal cracked lens.... perhaps you miraculously received a Dain-Brammaging Concussion (tm) that warped your vision so the warped picture you get while driving cancels out?
Whatever.
Fifteen minutes later and the beauty is back in our lot.
Then, a bit later than that, said owner comes into the office for it.
And despite it being dark, despite it being rainy, despite it being parked a good 30 yards from the gate, with the front pointing AWAY from you as you walk in.. despite all that?
Yep, the INSTANT the owner's feet touch the dirt of the impound yard he turns to Randy and yells "WHAT'D YOU DO TO MY WINDSHIELD?!"
So much for the concussion theory. "we didn't do anything" says Randy.
"Then why's it busted?"
"It was like that when I towed it"
"UN UHHHH! You broke it! And you owe me a new one!"
Randy, having very little desire to stand out in the pouring rain tells the guy that they can go back into the towing office, and they'll download the pics the lot monitor took of the car before he called it in that clearly shows the pre-busted condition. 15 minutes before we even got within sniffing distance of it.
Our lot monitor has upgraded to a cellphone app to do all his ticketing instead of the old palm pilot he used to have (until the EPA shut it down for failing new smog checks and the possibility that, even tethered, he might fatally stab someone through the eye with the stylus for all the grief he gets for writing tickets, just like us).
This means that now we can and do have him take pictures of every car he wants towed before we get there. Not only to guard against claims that we towed cars with permits but also these kinds of extremely false extended-warranty claims..... which means we have a minimum of two pictures of every car now, one front and one back, and the front shot clearly shows it's busted.
Guy must think this is a bluff, so he says "Do it, I KNOW it wasn't broken!"
Randy downloads the pics and brings them up fullscreen on the office computer... oh look at that big, ol, gorgeous asterisk right in your windshield.... just like we said!
"Oh, yeah, I guess it was that way..." says the guy who slinks out much less sure of himself than he was 20 seconds ago.
Laziest attempt at a free windshield, ever. Friend-o.
See, while all that other assorted battle damage on the Spider Car is passable, the one thing that no legit garage will pass on yearly safety inspections is a windshield that's cracked. Even a measly 2 incher will fail you, our Commonwealth doesn't have any exceptions for size or location. If it's cracked, even in the farthest corner on the passenger side by the smallest amount? You get the "sad car horn" sound from The Price is Right and need to replace it to pass. Or, you could go find a "lick and stick" operation where the number of fail items is inversely proportional to how many $20's you have on your person. No wonder he was just salivating at the chance to have us foot the bill.
Run along, you rapscallion, and next time, you know what? Forget it, there won't be a "next time" if you keep driving around hard enough to mash your noggin on the regular, you won't be needing us, you'll be needing a neurologist and maybe a fresh pine box.... now, take your Spider Car and get outta here.
And now, to thoroughly belabor a joke, ahem:
Spider Car
Spider Car
If you owned it
You wouldn't get far.
Everywhere you parked?
People would look!
Without a permit
It'll surely be hooked!
Watch out!
There goes your Spider Car!
GET OFF YOUR PROPERTY! OH, AND GIMMIE SOME MONEY, PLEASE?
Friendly Neighborhood Towing sits just off the Main Drag of this town, the primary North-South artery that all the residential and commercial districts fall in line with.
Now, due to the way the particular neighborhood we're in is laid out, all the side streets meet up with Main Drag at an acute angle, giving our shop's property, if viewed from the air, a shape akin to a.... a... a... you know? It's one of those things my geometry teacher told me I'd have to know some day or I'd never get in to clown college......
*checks*
Ah, a Rhombus! Take THAT Mrs. Brown! Google has rendered your dire predictions of what would happen to me if I didn't pay attention in your class useless, utterly USELESS!!! The nerds got their revenge on me by inventing the internet and making me a slave to it, but you? HA! I remain undefeated by your pesky maths! WHO really won? Huh?
Now where were we? Oh, yes.... our property boundaries.
Because the garage / office itself is square, plopping it down on the Rhomboid SimCity-style means you get these two roughly- triangular areas on either end.
The Northern one is our fenced impound, and the southern one is, basically, everyone else, including service customer cars, employee cars and things that end up here with an ultimate disposition of "Other: please explain". With no need to secure these cars since they aren't going anywhere, there is no fence around this other triangle lot or gate at the entrance.
Now, if any of us out there in the public-facing sector know anything, it's that people are lazy ignoramuses.
So would it surprise you if I told you that one of the constant irritants in life is people traversing the neighborhood on the way towards or from Main Drag cutting through this one parking lot to save themselves the trouble of having to walk around the perimeter on the provided pathway? Thereby introducing the new problem of them possibly becoming pedestrian pate' on the bumper of something that's backing up without expecting them to be there? While obliviously texting/bebpoing to music? Blissfully unaware that they're risking their own life and making mine harder? And then get mad at YOU for being in the way? Would that surprise anyone?
(To the person about to put their hand up just to be contrarian, I'd like to remind you, this gun IS loaded. Stay seated and keep your hands inside this ride at all times)
Thought so....
The point of all this leadup is to explain why when I cut a turn off of Main Drag the other day to start another shift at the towing mines, I wasn't surprised to find a person standing still right in the middle of the entryway to the lot, well beyond the sidewalk, forcing me to bring my car to a halt less I pancake him with the rear tires still in the street.
He's got his back turned to me and is apparently dithering on a phone or something, I expect he'll be on his way momentarily, or at least pick a side so I can just drive around him, so I don't think much of it.
Instead, he notices me out of the corner of his eye, turns, and.... with a mighty frown scolds me with:
"CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?!"
Woah, I know what the prize in your cereal box was this morning! A free bad attitude! Seriously, I have not honked my horn, revved my engine, shouted slurs or done anything except stop short of running over someone, and spent about 5 seconds in silence just mentally processing the unexpected situation.
Your inexplicable decision to go from "Just Some Dude" to "Douchenozzle" has now made that STUNNED silence.... until I remember you asked me a question:
"Uh, no, not really, don't need any help"
"Well WHY are you HERE?!"
"Because I was planning on parking my car"
"And WHY do you want to do THAT?!"
"Uh, because I work here?"
"REALLY?!"
"Yes, really"
So, Mister Short Fuse steps aside and I find a nice open stall for my metallic steed about 5 or so spots in. But, as I'm clambering out, I see him approach me again. Oh, terrific, now he probably wants to complain about my attitude and report me to the Manager or something... (sigh) I'm not even on the clock yet....... literally too early in the morning for this.
Hey!.
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go
*through clenching teeth* Yeeeeessssssssssssss?
Look man, I , uh, I got my car towed and don't have the money to get it back, I was wondering if you can just loan me....
Aw Hell naw... *Cuts him off* Sorry Sir, but I have to get on the clock, if you have an issue with a tow, the man to talk to is the Towing Manager, he's up front in the office if you go around the corner of the building to our front door.
I already talked to him and he won't cut me a break!
Well, I'm sorry then, there's nothing I can do *walks briskly to side door that goes directly to service*
Aw, come on! All I need is just forty bucks! That's all! Jus... (he goes to try and follow me in)
*Cuts off again* Sorry, Sir, Employees Only *taps EMPLOYEES ONLY sign on door*
Whew.... that was certainly a bi-polar experience!
Man goes from unprovoked rage to pleading for my favor in under 30 seconds?
What side of bed in what dimension do you have to wake up in to think that loitering on our property, blocking me from getting in to do my job and finally getting churlish with me for no reason at all would make me in ANY way want to engage in ANY kind of financial transaction with you? Especially one that I'm almost certain would end with red ink for me?
Why? What was your motive because I'm trying to figure it out right now and... and... uh..... uh...... uh...
*brain cell was ejected. 10 brain cells remain*
See? I couldn't do it!
As soon as I got inside, I went to see Towing Manager and informed him the guy he refused to cut a deal with about his towed car is now on the side parking lot trying to get a loan from the public.
Towing Manager looks at me funny... well, funnier than he usually does, and says that he didn't talk to anyone about a towed car today and has no idea what I'm talking about.
In fact, we don't have ANYTHING in impound right now.....
Oh, now I get it.
Angry man was just a regular ol' scammer. Well, now it all makes sense.... and yes, I'm very very VERY disappointed in humanity that I just now typed that out not as a joke, but as the God's Honest truth. But what can you do?
Until they change the laws, we just have to wait for people like them to die naturally on their own before rendering their body fats into biofuel so they can be a net benefit to society for once....
Order Up! One Deluded Entrepreneur, To Go!
What's more American than capitalism? And what's more capitalist than externalizing your costs to others without their knowledge?
Specifically, you seem to have started some kind of DoorDash competitor service and made your car a marked food delivery vehicle and started parking it in the marked delivery driver space in the lot.
So far, so good.
Here's the problem, that space isn't for ANY old delivery driver, it's for the one who works out of the actual restaurant on the ground floor of that building, and pays an extra $1500 a year to have just that space for them as well as higher rental rate for the prime storefront.
You, who live in the apartments above the restaurant, and pay regular student rates for rent are not entitled to use it on a regular-rate parking permit and a home-made sign. I have a feeling this was explained in your lease which is why the building maintenance man AND restaurant owner approached me with a tow-on-sight orders for your car after you rather bluntly informed both of them you intended to use that spot whenever you felt like it because "You [sic] have a permit for this lot and are a delivery driver, so that means you [sic] can use the space"
You further reacted to the tickets they directed the lot monitor to start giving to your car in an effort to chase you off as "stalking".
And, you called the final hand-typed note to the windshield direct from the building OWNER informing you that since the warning shots concerning your continued parking insolence have been ignored, the next round will feature live towing ammunition nothing but an annoyance (or, as you less eloquently put it: Bull*hit) since "They know who I am! This is ridiculous!"
So, that's why your car finally ended up on the wrong side of our fence today, not because we "don't understand" the situation.
We understand it just fine, as outlined above. You kept doing that which you are not allowed to do and were continually told to stop doing until your compliance was ensured by force
If you can't see how it all escalated from "please don't" to a Super Size order of Pwnage, with your choice of any two sides, including biscuits, coleslaw, french fries and tow dollies? Well, then I worry about your future genetic descendants, to say the least.
Aяgabaяga's Nemesis
And now, from pigheaded capitalism, to pigheaded communism.
Several times now, three if I am counting correctly, I have driven past one of our lots at 668 Great Eastern Drive in the morning to find that at some point overnight our "PRIVATE PARKING" signs have been vandalized by a budding Junior Bolshevik who has an irresistible urge to put a hammer and sickle on them with spray paint.
Perhaps he thinks this public declaration that the lot now belongs to the proletariat at last will cause the bourgeoisie tow trucks to have to suspend their operations?
Spoiler: It don't work that way
Fortunately, our signs are made of layered plastic laminate on the base metal so that paint-based attacks like this don't "stick", all it takes is a rag, some thinner borrowed from the body shop's paint booth and about 20 minutes of cussing and rubbing and they come right off....
Only to be back again the next day...
As I said, I have no idea WHY he keeps doing this.
Much like running from the repo man, consider for a second the incredible disadvantage you're at:
You presumably are doing this at your own cost, both in your time and supplies being spent for no material gain.
And I, in true capitalist fashion, am getting PAID to undo it with FREE supplies and a FREE headache for the rest of the day from the thinner fumes.
You really think you're going to win this rather one-sided fight?
I guess we'll find out tomorrow. But be warned. If I ever personally catch you, know that thinner is the weakest chemical I can deploy. If I really wanted you to learn a lesson, I could move all the way up to the jellied aircraft stripper.
Yeah, Stripper.
You don't want that, is not right kind of stripper, comrade, less like Svetlana and more like quality of food in gulag! Is found in body shop behind door with big pirate flag on it and you don't even touch that cabinet without rubber glove! Will take moustache right off of Stalin poster!
Subsidizing Your Own Failures
To the guy who noticed we were towing a car for excessive parking meter tickets, and decided to White Knight for them by first hurling obscenities at us from an open window and then quickly running out of the building and feeding the other 5 meters in the lot that cars were at? While giving us a sarcastic "Ooops! Sorry!" and a middle finger? I didn't have the heart to tell him, but, those 5 other cars don't HAVE to pay the meters, one is a maintenance man's car, one is a municipal vehicle with guv-ment plates (probably doing some code enforcement) and the other 3 are delivery drivers for the stores on the ground floor. All exempt from parking tickets and therefore also exempt from being towed for tickets. So you really did nothing except earn a meager deduction on your taxes next year for charity work.......
You literally spent your money for nothing, and didn't even get the chicks for free!
Hopping Madly to Conclusions
Friendly Neighborhood Towing - We'll tow you when you're trying to go home, and we'll tow you when you're there all alone.... EVERYBODY must get towed! How can I help you?
What's that?
Uh, speak a little slower and a little less vulgar, Sir. I'm having trouble telling if this is a phone call right now or an old Adolph Hitler radio speech still hovering in the Earth's ionosphere that this ancient desk phone might still be able to pick up.
Ah, that's better. Now... uh huh..... mmmm hummm... Yes, now, Sir...
No Sir, we didn't tow your Son for having paper temporary plates on his car. Yes Sir, we are totally aware that paper temps are good for 90 days from issuance, at which point you need to get a permanent metal tag. Yes, you're absolutely right, Sir: you are entitled to park at your apartment even if the car has temp tags. Yes, it would be illegal to suggest otherwise... which is why I'm not.... Sir.... Sir? Yes, you are completely in the right to file complaints with any number of regulatory agencies, this is a free country.... yes, you can sue us too, but.... Sir.... Sir? SIR?! Can you give me a minute here, Sir?
Okay, good, now, as I was trying to say, we didn't tow your Son for having temporary tags.
You see, he got towed for not having a PARKING PERMIT for the lot he was in, not the kind of plates he had on his car.
Why did we tell him that the T-tags were the reason he got towed? We didn't, Sir.
He says we did? We'll, he's just flat out wrong, Sir. What happened was, he called looking for his car, which he described to us as "a black Cobalt" At the time, we had TWO black Cobalts in inventory. With the most obvious way to quickly tell them apart being one had paper temps, and one did not.
So, we asked him, "Does yours have paper temp tags? It does? Then yes, we have it" and at that point, before we could say anything else, your Son hung up the phone on us.
It would appear he immediately drew some hasty but incorrect conclusions about his tow and then called you and passed them on..... and you accepted them without question.
Yes, we're absolutely sure that's what happened.
No, we never even GOT to telling him the reason for the tow. Which was for no permit. Yes, no permit.
He had a permit, you say? How could he have been towed for no permit when you BOUGHT him one for that lot? You say? And he says he was using it, you say?
Well, about that.... He parked at the WRONG apartment, his permit was good for #6 at 111 Osmium Way, he parked at #6, 320 Osmium Way, that's two blocks down and on the wrong side of the street from where he was SUPPOSED to be.
Why did your Son do that? You ask?
I dunno, maybe, juuuuuuuuuuuuuuust maybe... there's a chronic lack of comprehension endemic to his family tree? It's just a theory.... but I got a few ideas on where he picked it up from.
At least Dad apologized at the end, that rarely happens. Especially when they start telling Dad jokes. You know? The kind that go "Why do people laugh at mountains? Cuz' they're hill areas!"
Aaaaaaand, sleep.
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