No, I'm not talking about Christmas. It's true you are hearing loads of Christmas music, sales pitches and the like now that Thanksgiving is over, but that's not what I'm talking about.
I have been posting mercilessly about the fine and not-so-fine citizens of my little California town for a while now and I think it's time to give you all a little present - something I'm sure you've been wondering about, asking for and yes, maybe in your own sick and twisted little way praying for. I'm going to start writing about my colleagues. I've been sticking it to the citizenry long enough (although lord knows they deserve it), but what about US? Not ME of course, but US. The few, the proud, the over-zealous.
Starting soon I will be posting as many stories I think I can write, without being fired or sued over, about my fellow PCOs.
And heaven help us all. Stay tuned.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Away Game
Hello citizens,
You've probably wondered where I've been for a while (or not). Well, I've been on jury duty for the past five weeks. It was a civil trial. More I won't say about it. But what I will say is that in combination with doing my civic duty and being away from the hustle-bustle, the hubbub, the hurly-burly (I could go on like this but you get the picture) for this long, it's been like a little vacation. The lack of stress has been a welcomed relief. No driving, no ticketing, no people getting in my face. And while deliberations may have been difficult, they were no match, stress-wise, for that one person who was willfully ignorant of a simple parking sign and made my life miserable because of it.
Why did I come back then, you ask? I need the money. The first day back on the job after jury duty was so surreal in so many ways that I just can't do it justice here (like I did in the jury room).
More later on all this. I will close by saying it's good to be back. Now if I can only keep this stress-free feeling for, oh say, the next fifteen minutes, I feel I'll be way ahead of the game.
10-7
You've probably wondered where I've been for a while (or not). Well, I've been on jury duty for the past five weeks. It was a civil trial. More I won't say about it. But what I will say is that in combination with doing my civic duty and being away from the hustle-bustle, the hubbub, the hurly-burly (I could go on like this but you get the picture) for this long, it's been like a little vacation. The lack of stress has been a welcomed relief. No driving, no ticketing, no people getting in my face. And while deliberations may have been difficult, they were no match, stress-wise, for that one person who was willfully ignorant of a simple parking sign and made my life miserable because of it.
Why did I come back then, you ask? I need the money. The first day back on the job after jury duty was so surreal in so many ways that I just can't do it justice here (like I did in the jury room).
More later on all this. I will close by saying it's good to be back. Now if I can only keep this stress-free feeling for, oh say, the next fifteen minutes, I feel I'll be way ahead of the game.
10-7
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Verbal Judo
The title of this piece does not refer to a character from the movie "The Usual Suspects." No, it is a technique taught to us by the police to diffuse any confrontation we may find ourselves in. You see, they don't give us guns (and a good thing too). We do have pepper spray but my former boss told me that in her more than twenty five years on the job, no one ever used it. Sometimes just taking the canister out of it's holder and shaking it to mix the chemicals is enough to deter a person who is hot under the collar. They know they may be about to become hot around the face and that does the trick.
This then is about talking your way out of a bad situation which is a marvellous skill to have in daily life as well (especially when I have a fight with my wife).
Here's what generally happens:
I am writing a ticket and about to place it on the windshield when the person emerges from their house. You can tell by the redness of their face and the strain showing in their neck muscles that, yep, it's their car and they are already at level 100 on the anger meter. They'll usually ask something stupid like "Why am I getting a ticket?" Generally they already know why and I'm getting very developed eye-rolling muscles myself.
Then the fun begins as I try to calmly explain to them why they are getting fined. Now, here's a problem to watch out for: they are in a completely agitated state and we as humans (most of us), when confronted with this type of thing get an immediate shot of adrenaline, prompting what's called the "fight or flight" response. Since we can't flee (until we've hung the ticket) and we can't fight in the traditional sense, we must use verbal judo (or scalding hot coffee if you happen to be holding a cup but you try writing a ticket with a cup of coffee in your hand. Not easy). The thing to avoid though is, when you get that shot of adrenaline (you've already had enough caffeine, mister), it's hard not to rise to their level and start getting angry yourself. You have to swallow hard (sometimes the coffee is bad, I mean really bad) and set a better tone between you and the angry person. It can get extremely frustrating (hey, I paid four and a half bucks for this coffee [oh, will you stop with the coffee already and get on with it?]), as I was saying it can get frustrating hearing the stupid or clueless reasons or excuses or just plain wrong-headedness of the aggrieved party and sometimes you'd like to say something back to them like: "You're an ass." This won't do. When they train us they tell us: "If you want to say something you think will make you feel better, don't." It'll only make the situation worse. And, you may get a citizen complaint about you. And who wants those? Most people simply want to be listened to anyway, so I do a lot of that. If you listen, you don't have to do a lot of talking which is smart.
I'm very good at verbal judo. When I'm done with a person, they are usually shaking my hand and saying thank you to me. And I just gave them a ticket! I love it. I can usually stop any snarkiness from coming out of my mouth until I'm fully in my vehicle and driving away. You should hear what I say then! It feels sooooo goooood.
Ten-Seven
This then is about talking your way out of a bad situation which is a marvellous skill to have in daily life as well (especially when I have a fight with my wife).
Here's what generally happens:
I am writing a ticket and about to place it on the windshield when the person emerges from their house. You can tell by the redness of their face and the strain showing in their neck muscles that, yep, it's their car and they are already at level 100 on the anger meter. They'll usually ask something stupid like "Why am I getting a ticket?" Generally they already know why and I'm getting very developed eye-rolling muscles myself.
Then the fun begins as I try to calmly explain to them why they are getting fined. Now, here's a problem to watch out for: they are in a completely agitated state and we as humans (most of us), when confronted with this type of thing get an immediate shot of adrenaline, prompting what's called the "fight or flight" response. Since we can't flee (until we've hung the ticket) and we can't fight in the traditional sense, we must use verbal judo (or scalding hot coffee if you happen to be holding a cup but you try writing a ticket with a cup of coffee in your hand. Not easy). The thing to avoid though is, when you get that shot of adrenaline (you've already had enough caffeine, mister), it's hard not to rise to their level and start getting angry yourself. You have to swallow hard (sometimes the coffee is bad, I mean really bad) and set a better tone between you and the angry person. It can get extremely frustrating (hey, I paid four and a half bucks for this coffee [oh, will you stop with the coffee already and get on with it?]), as I was saying it can get frustrating hearing the stupid or clueless reasons or excuses or just plain wrong-headedness of the aggrieved party and sometimes you'd like to say something back to them like: "You're an ass." This won't do. When they train us they tell us: "If you want to say something you think will make you feel better, don't." It'll only make the situation worse. And, you may get a citizen complaint about you. And who wants those? Most people simply want to be listened to anyway, so I do a lot of that. If you listen, you don't have to do a lot of talking which is smart.
I'm very good at verbal judo. When I'm done with a person, they are usually shaking my hand and saying thank you to me. And I just gave them a ticket! I love it. I can usually stop any snarkiness from coming out of my mouth until I'm fully in my vehicle and driving away. You should hear what I say then! It feels sooooo goooood.
Ten-Seven
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Toe Story 2
And now, more about my time in the Traffic office at the police station. Damn toe.
One of the things we must do is to retrieve the "72 hour complaints" off of the phone voicemail box dedicated to that purpose. These are supposed to be complaints about abandoned vehicles but you wouldn't know it. Oh, before I forget, let me say that I'm glad they set up this mailbox. Before when you spoke to one of these complainants, they would go on and on and on telling you their life story before getting around to "just the facts, ma'am." Now, you can fast-forward through their messages. Ah, technology!
So, about these 72s. We have a rule here in my little town that a vehicle cannot be parked in the same place for more than a consecutive 72 hours. Essentially, you can't store a car on the street (or an RV, a boat trailer, etc). We leave a little red notice and we chalk the tires (or mark them in some other way) to make sure the owner knows the rule and knows that we're working their vehicle. A lot of times they will simply moved the vehicle up a few inches (Hey, I moved it!). Let me just say this: WRONG! And you can't simply move it from one side of the street to the other. Nope, you can't do that either. It has to break an intersection and go off of the block. You can even drive it around the block and park in the very same spot. But, if your car can't move because it doesn't run, like say, it doesn't have an engine, get it fixed.
Now, about these complaints we get. When you run the voicemails here is what you hear: It's been parked in front of my house for two days! Seven days! Six months (and you're just calling now?)! Recently a woman said this: "I can't water my front yard (!?!)." Why, I thought? Is it parked on your front lawn? Then she let the truth spill out: "My friends can't park in front of my house." Ah. That's really it in a nutshell. So instead of calling in a vehicle which might be abandoned and could actually pose a hazard or could be stolen, it becomes about "I want this car moved (off of a public street, mind you), so I can park there." Nice. Remember folks, you may own the house but your rights end at the end of your sidewalk. The sidewalk, the little grass strip and the street is MINE! The city owns that and we say that other people, you know, the public, can park there too. Make your friends walk a half a block (believe me, they can use it. I've seen some of your friends).
A lot of times, we get the same people calling about the same cars. This can sometimes be another version of the wonderful game show NEIGHBORHOOD FEUD! These things usually get resolved one way or another (jail is not a pretty place, folks, so take it easy, okay?) but often they can go on for years. We don't like this. It wastes our time. I need to go on my break!
My favorites though are during holidays or vacation times like the summer. We'll get calls like: "There's a car I don't recognize on my street." Welllll? People do visit each other, you know. Kids come home from college, and, people have even been known to (gasp!) buy new cars once in a while. But I suspect it all goes back to this: "I can't park in front of MY house."
These are grown-up people I'm talking about here. And most of them have driveways too!Brother.
Ten-Seven.
One of the things we must do is to retrieve the "72 hour complaints" off of the phone voicemail box dedicated to that purpose. These are supposed to be complaints about abandoned vehicles but you wouldn't know it. Oh, before I forget, let me say that I'm glad they set up this mailbox. Before when you spoke to one of these complainants, they would go on and on and on telling you their life story before getting around to "just the facts, ma'am." Now, you can fast-forward through their messages. Ah, technology!
So, about these 72s. We have a rule here in my little town that a vehicle cannot be parked in the same place for more than a consecutive 72 hours. Essentially, you can't store a car on the street (or an RV, a boat trailer, etc). We leave a little red notice and we chalk the tires (or mark them in some other way) to make sure the owner knows the rule and knows that we're working their vehicle. A lot of times they will simply moved the vehicle up a few inches (Hey, I moved it!). Let me just say this: WRONG! And you can't simply move it from one side of the street to the other. Nope, you can't do that either. It has to break an intersection and go off of the block. You can even drive it around the block and park in the very same spot. But, if your car can't move because it doesn't run, like say, it doesn't have an engine, get it fixed.
Now, about these complaints we get. When you run the voicemails here is what you hear: It's been parked in front of my house for two days! Seven days! Six months (and you're just calling now?)! Recently a woman said this: "I can't water my front yard (!?!)." Why, I thought? Is it parked on your front lawn? Then she let the truth spill out: "My friends can't park in front of my house." Ah. That's really it in a nutshell. So instead of calling in a vehicle which might be abandoned and could actually pose a hazard or could be stolen, it becomes about "I want this car moved (off of a public street, mind you), so I can park there." Nice. Remember folks, you may own the house but your rights end at the end of your sidewalk. The sidewalk, the little grass strip and the street is MINE! The city owns that and we say that other people, you know, the public, can park there too. Make your friends walk a half a block (believe me, they can use it. I've seen some of your friends).
A lot of times, we get the same people calling about the same cars. This can sometimes be another version of the wonderful game show NEIGHBORHOOD FEUD! These things usually get resolved one way or another (jail is not a pretty place, folks, so take it easy, okay?) but often they can go on for years. We don't like this. It wastes our time. I need to go on my break!
My favorites though are during holidays or vacation times like the summer. We'll get calls like: "There's a car I don't recognize on my street." Welllll? People do visit each other, you know. Kids come home from college, and, people have even been known to (gasp!) buy new cars once in a while. But I suspect it all goes back to this: "I can't park in front of MY house."
These are grown-up people I'm talking about here. And most of them have driveways too!Brother.
Ten-Seven.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Toe Story
Hello and ouch. I sprained my right pinkie toe pretty badly (while on vacation, of course and believe me, there's nothing pretty about it) so I had to spend all of last week in the police station working in the Traffic office. Firstly, I was amazed at how many people had broken toe stories of their own. These little things are vulnerable, aren't they? Okay, let's get this out of the way right now. I did not hurt it kicking my wife. That seemed to be the popular thing to ask me (oh those jolly jokesters I work with - every cop a failed comedian). No, I woke up groggy and our bedroom door wasn't quite as open as it usually is and my foot found the edge of the door. It's that old thing about an irresistible force meeting an immovable object (hello, nice to meet you - OOOWWWW!!).
So in the office I was, wearing a rather not-so-stylish sandal-type shoe that I got from the foot doc. With my regular shoe on one foot and this thing on the other, I resembled Igor limping through Castle Frankenstein. I clomped around like a 12th Century Japanese woman in those wooden things they wore (I know I'm digressing here but it's fun).
Whenever I'm in the office, I get to see what kinds of tickets the motorcycle officers write. Following is a list of the three most common:
1) Cell Phone use. There is a law against this in CA (among other states) and yet you'd never know it. This is far and away the most common ticket the police write these days. Ah, give me the good old days when you had two tin cans with a piece of string between them. It's impossible to drive while talking on one of those (I've tried). But what's such an emergency that you can't pull over (NOT in the red, please) and talk? And don't get me started on texting. When I'm driving around on my job, I'm driving in a taller vehicle so it's fairly easy to see people texting in their cars even when they're trying to hide it. Unfortunately, I can't cite for this. Darn. There are bluetooth devices for the talking but so far no bluethumbs for the texting.
2) No Seatbelts. I mean really people, come on. You WANT to fly through the windshield in an accident? Really? There are those who tuck the belt under their arm as they drive. "But look, the belt is on!" This is a no-no as well. The belt must be worn properly. I've actually seen people texting and not wearing a seatbelt. Pathetic.
3) Unsafe Speed. Now, this is hard to avoid sometimes (Ahem, not me of course. I ALWAYS drive completely within the limit - why are you smirking?) But think about it. Texting or talking on the cell phone while driving, not wearing your seatbelt, AND speeding too? That's the trifecta! You WANT to not only go through the windshield, you also want the phone embedded into your skull, don't you? Hey, maybe there's the solution to talking while driving right there. I suppose that's coming.
More on being in the office later. I need to put my foot up (and take a pain pill).
So in the office I was, wearing a rather not-so-stylish sandal-type shoe that I got from the foot doc. With my regular shoe on one foot and this thing on the other, I resembled Igor limping through Castle Frankenstein. I clomped around like a 12th Century Japanese woman in those wooden things they wore (I know I'm digressing here but it's fun).
Whenever I'm in the office, I get to see what kinds of tickets the motorcycle officers write. Following is a list of the three most common:
1) Cell Phone use. There is a law against this in CA (among other states) and yet you'd never know it. This is far and away the most common ticket the police write these days. Ah, give me the good old days when you had two tin cans with a piece of string between them. It's impossible to drive while talking on one of those (I've tried). But what's such an emergency that you can't pull over (NOT in the red, please) and talk? And don't get me started on texting. When I'm driving around on my job, I'm driving in a taller vehicle so it's fairly easy to see people texting in their cars even when they're trying to hide it. Unfortunately, I can't cite for this. Darn. There are bluetooth devices for the talking but so far no bluethumbs for the texting.
2) No Seatbelts. I mean really people, come on. You WANT to fly through the windshield in an accident? Really? There are those who tuck the belt under their arm as they drive. "But look, the belt is on!" This is a no-no as well. The belt must be worn properly. I've actually seen people texting and not wearing a seatbelt. Pathetic.
3) Unsafe Speed. Now, this is hard to avoid sometimes (Ahem, not me of course. I ALWAYS drive completely within the limit - why are you smirking?) But think about it. Texting or talking on the cell phone while driving, not wearing your seatbelt, AND speeding too? That's the trifecta! You WANT to not only go through the windshield, you also want the phone embedded into your skull, don't you? Hey, maybe there's the solution to talking while driving right there. I suppose that's coming.
More on being in the office later. I need to put my foot up (and take a pain pill).
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tab, you're it.
Some call them Tabs, some call them Tags but we all know them as those little sticky things one must put on our license plates (except in some states where you put something in the windshield or in New Jersey where you don't need any at all - Go, Mafia!). The thing that amazes me is, some people feel this simple task absolutely MUST become an art project. They take the even smaller sticky part, the one that says Peel Here, and they put that all over their plate making it look like some kind of fruit salad that has exploded. This can make the plate difficult to read at times (maybe that's their evil intent? ... Nah.). By the way, there is a statute about altering the plate making it difficult to read. I'm just saying.
Then there are the "artists" who take the year tabs and layer them one after the other in a kind of colorful waterfall, or maybe a rainbow. Whenever I see this I wonder if they'll run out of room on the plate or the car will give up the ghost first.
Then you get the people who put one tab over another...and another...and another...and another until the tabs stand about three inches away from the plate. This is a bad idea. You see, people (and here I'm referring to unscrupulous people) have a tendency to steal tabs. [Really? Oh, horrors!] Yes, they do. This way, they can try to fake us (and the state) out and they don't register their car. I love catching people who don't register their cars. And we do catch them. Usually when they do something stupid. You'd be shocked to find out (as we are) how long some people go without registering their cars. This is another bad mistake. When we catch you (and we wiiiiilllll), it is soooo expensive to register it then, what with all the penalties and fees, etc. Oh, boy.
I'm not even going to mention those who put a year tab over the month tab. These people are just dumb. Oops, I guess I just mentioned them.
Look, here's the thing: when you get your tabs in the mail, take the old one off with a razor blade. Put the new one where it goes (usually upper right corner people, come on) and then using the same razor blade, score it (that means make cut lines in it so no one can steal it in one swipe) and there you go. You'd be astounded at how many people get tickets because their tabs are not on the plate and then they come out and show us where they are - in their glove box! Or they say, I'm waiting until I wash the car (just wash that spot!), or my mechanic does it for me (ladies, please).
So, whether you call them tabs or tags, you know where to stick them.
Ten-Seven
Then there are the "artists" who take the year tabs and layer them one after the other in a kind of colorful waterfall, or maybe a rainbow. Whenever I see this I wonder if they'll run out of room on the plate or the car will give up the ghost first.
Then you get the people who put one tab over another...and another...and another...and another until the tabs stand about three inches away from the plate. This is a bad idea. You see, people (and here I'm referring to unscrupulous people) have a tendency to steal tabs. [Really? Oh, horrors!] Yes, they do. This way, they can try to fake us (and the state) out and they don't register their car. I love catching people who don't register their cars. And we do catch them. Usually when they do something stupid. You'd be shocked to find out (as we are) how long some people go without registering their cars. This is another bad mistake. When we catch you (and we wiiiiilllll), it is soooo expensive to register it then, what with all the penalties and fees, etc. Oh, boy.
I'm not even going to mention those who put a year tab over the month tab. These people are just dumb. Oops, I guess I just mentioned them.
Look, here's the thing: when you get your tabs in the mail, take the old one off with a razor blade. Put the new one where it goes (usually upper right corner people, come on) and then using the same razor blade, score it (that means make cut lines in it so no one can steal it in one swipe) and there you go. You'd be astounded at how many people get tickets because their tabs are not on the plate and then they come out and show us where they are - in their glove box! Or they say, I'm waiting until I wash the car (just wash that spot!), or my mechanic does it for me (ladies, please).
So, whether you call them tabs or tags, you know where to stick them.
Ten-Seven
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
PCO
We are called PCOs, that is, Parking Control Officers. I realized today that you can't spell proctologist without the letters PCO. We might as well be called proctologists because we deal with so many assholes every day. Sorry to be so harsh but if you had the day I did today, you'd be sounding off this way too. Let me say first that the rich really are different than you and me. They're assholes. They think they are so privileged that the rules do not apply to them. People who work in show business can really be self-important assholes. They actually think what they do is important and that the rules don't apply to them at all. People who can't read a simple sign or who don't know that red means NO pretty much all over the world are assholes. What is it that makes people who may be quite nice outside of their cars, become such assholes the minute they get in? Are we breathing some kind of fumes in there that we don't know about? You'll notice I include myself in that last question. Sometimes, when I drive I can be an asshole too. But not when I park. Then I try to follow the rules. Why? I don't want to get a parking ticket. Apparently this does not apply to assholes. Ugh. I'm wiped out. 10-7
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