Is any profession more detested than the traffic warden? Well, yes. There’s the, eh … The, eh …
Give me a minute. It will come to me.
There’s the, eh …
Right. I give up. We all hate them, and yet, these are just a bunch of honest people doing an honest day’s work for small enough pay, but really, wouldn’t it be a very hard job to do? Wouldn’t it? Putting up with endless abuse from disgruntled motorists.
I came across a bizarre parallel recently in Aldi when I bought a bottle of wine.
Are you older than eighteen? asked the checkout operator, and I looked over my shoulder. Were you talking to me?
Yes. Are you eighteen?
Our eyes locked and he failed to smile. This man was serious.
Are you joking? I demanded.
I need to know if you’re over eighteen, sir, he replied courteously, though somewhat robotically, in the manner of an NYPD cop addressing an Occupy Wall Street protester while fingering a pepper-spray canister.
Yes, I confirmed. I was eighteen yesterday. I had a party.
Very good, sir, he said. Drink responsibly.
That guy has been the butt of derisory and condescvending remarks for weeks since Aldi introduced this stupid policy, and so, I imagine, have traffic wardens, except that their purgatory goes on and on and on.
I’d behave like a total Nazi as well if I was constantly being abused by ignorant double-parked turds.
I’ve had dealings with all of them and just like the rest of humanity, they’re a mixed bunch. Some of them are decent and they understand that you have to go about your business earning a crust. They’ll overlook the occasional infringement. But there’s one character who seems to take pleasure out of catching people. I bet he was the same in school and received endless merciless beatings outside the school gates for being a total prick.
As Napoleon famously said, some men are born traffic wardens.
I bet the other traffic wardens beat him up when nobody is looking. He probably puts tickets on their cars and reports them for smoking.
Here’s where the mind-games come in. Figuring out when they’re likely to be on a particular street. When they’re at lunch.
It’s guerrilla parking and it’s fun. Mind-games are always fun.