... to make a smooth transition, is the last post in the old blog, the second blog post in the new:
It is Tuesday lunchtime, I ate well at the Italian and because I know from experience that a full stomach does not like, I have parked my car quite illegally parked illegally, because I am 44 years old and in full possession of my mental powers and my friendly bank account and that is why I practice so that my form of passive resistance against the state in which I present myself to where it suits me.
I will not get caught, then I had a nice parking lot for free and if I get caught, then it cost twice as much as I would like the parking garage. Double or nothing. As with roulette. Or in life.
leave So when I find the Al Dente con Salmonella as Berlusconi, the belly and tie full of spaghetti Bolognese is a lackey of the state power, a henchman of the king, a soldier of the civil office of the city next to the jeep and writes calmly be ticket. I am walking towards my car and say "oh damn". Because it says that if you get caught in illegal parking.
I now know the game so: the representative of the dark side of the Army looks at me reproachfully, expressed to me his ticket in hand, I climb into the car, its existence calculation lie in the center console and wait for the post, where I nodules on the basis. I was parked illegally, was caught and pay. Tough luck. I've killed anyone.
Over the next five minutes I will, however clear that a murder compared to the "parking at no parking" is a cheerful minor offense.
For the proper official eminence grise looks at me and said sternly: "You know, that is absolutely prohibited here?"
Well.
What can you say? Of course, I know. I do indeed like the ticket and grateful to accept as a stroke of fate. But I will not talk. So I say bravely, "Yes, I know." Thus the conversation on my part would be actually ended at this point.
Not so for the agents of the city treasury. "And why did you park here?" He wants to know.
Aha. On the one this is not just that he distributed wild fines for illegal parking innocent, he will also give courses in transport and provide important socio-political issues. He may have.
I go here several answers through my head: I could spontaneously, for example, tell him the truth: "I'm too lazy to work." A possibility.
Or the arrogant style: "That does not give a shit." But then he pulls his notepad, perhaps not as punishment, but a pepper spray. I would not.
I choose door three and buy "for 10 € arrogance" and say, "Because I can."
But not with Mr. Löhlein from the Government! "Now you will not even cheeky!" He hisses at me. "By your conduct you block this ruthless elderly, disabled and children, is it really clear to you?"
What is this? A social quiz? An interrogation?
to a bug in his enumeration still marginalized group "fellow citizens with migration background" and the unemployed, on the other hand I block the said masses of the people only if those are not in a position, in a six-meter-wide pedestrian, zone to avoid a stationary obstacle, if it is so old, unemployed people with disabilities and children with immigrant background to push the walker with about 120 cases by this cobbled pedestrian ghetto.
What now actually expected this arm of the law? Should I take him at his feet and desperate "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please punish me, punish me please, I was a naughty girl 'whimper? 'S whole life is not!
"They can not go around it," I return. He thinks for a moment, because it sounds logical. Then it is an idea: "Not if there comes a truck."
Well, I have not thought of. That a truck comes. Noon to 13.30. In a pedestrian zone. When walking around the old and sick there. He thinks he has me. But not like this.
"Is there a" ask for once I do. And actually, I can not believe he cranes his head. "No," he says. "But it COULD get one," he adds defiantly, and I decide to build him a bridge. "If it burns, it would be a. From the Fire "I help him.
"Do you kidding me?" He slowly gets complexion. Well, yes, I just wanted the ticket and then back to the office. But I have not even begun to keep me a lecture.
"Never," I return "as I would that happen? They do so even your job. "
" Exactly, "he admits," and I did not absolutely necessary to let me abuse so! "He sounds angry and, yes, even a little sad.
He suddenly I'm sorry. Actually, I would now like to put his arm around him and tell him that he does his job just fine and even has me written all dutiful and before quasi in his capacity as protector of the elderly, disabled and children rowdiehaften parking offenders in stationary traffic. But first, I did not insult him, at least not yet, and secondly - it's all about the wrong car park and 10 €. And a matter of principle. Because there is always a matter of principle. All right, let him have his chance. I am confident.
"You know what?" I say and decide to lie to him: "I am grateful that you have notified me about my bad behavior and will never do it again, but what strikes me just now, this is not my car because I am now in the garage.
Thank you all for the instruction. I wish you a nice and exciting day. "He shakes
his head is jammed, his ballot behind the windscreen, I turn around, drink more coffee at Irma, wait until he is gone, his record of duty pluck from the wipers and put it on the center console and go to the office.
It's so easy to make people happy.
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