OLD PA'S WEDNESDAY CLUB
'SPIES IN CRANFORD'
|He smirked as he booked me!|
Here are a couple of little stories inspired by Shellhunter's brilliant tale of when her beloved Beetle Jazzman was towed away by Spies.
I nipped out to the local shops one evening and parked my car close by. A Spy was close to me. I asked him if it would be OK to park, as I would only be a couple of minutes.
He said :
'no problem mate!'
I was in the shop about 3 minutes and when I came out he was writing out a ticket. I challenged him!
'You said it was OK to park. Why didn't you say I could not park?'.
'Sorry mate I'm only doing my job. Free parking starts at 7'.
By now it was passed 7.
I was livid and what made matters worse, is that he had a satisfied smirk on his face. I had a hard job just to keep control, I really wanted to smack this guy, but knew I would be taken to the cleaners if I did. I accepted the ticket and paid up the £40 pound fine.
The second story is probably just as bad. It was Christmas Eve and again I parked outside a local mini Supermarket. When I came out, there were several Spies booking everybody who parked on this area, which ran parallel to the main road. It was common practise to park there.
I found out that the Spies did this every Christmas Eve, it was like a Christmas Bonus for them. They were told go out and get X amount of tickets, then they could go home, early trap for Christmas. Make someone happy on Chrstmas Eve. That particular Road was easy pickings.
I despise the 'job' of Spies and would find it very difficult ever do that job.
If I was ever down and out I would rather caress the bottle than do a job like that.
But saying that, I've got a little Pensions and dogs to feed. So lets open that bottle.
And very appropriately, one of my favourite Doors Songs from Morrison Hotel (1970).