Fun

I’ve got to pack this job in; I’m beginning to enjoy being sworn at.

This afternoon I booked a guy on double yellows. Just as I stick the ticket on his windscreen and take a photo, driver comes barrelling out of pub effing and blinding. Mr Hero gets to within ten paces; suddenly realises I’m bigger than him and in uniform, then abruptly brakes to a halt and does a cute little war dance while berating me and swearing blind he’s been loading and unloading (Which he hadn't). It was all I could do to keep a straight face. At times like these you drop into your “If you want to complain, please write into my office sir.” Routine. Bozo backs off, still doing his little war dance (With gestures) and I take the final photo and head off back to the barn, desperately trying not to giggle.

My own reaction disturbs me deeply for two reasons. Firstly, I pride myself on being a very fair-minded person who is willing to see the good in most people and does not like swearing, even if I am occasionally tempted myself. Secondly, this has exposed a sadistic vein in my psyche that I was not hitherto aware of. I am not comfortable with this.

What I was comfortable with was passing his car details to the local law enforcement via CCTV. If, as I suspect he has been drinking, real Police will shortly be inviting him to a balloon inflating party. Now I am comfortable that idea as I have a real problem with drink drivers.