He slowly opened the passenger door and walked with a quickening pace toward his car until he was close enough to read the sticker on the driver’s side window.
Keith followed him. “Better call that number,” he said. “That parking boot’s not going come off your wheel with magic. Or even Oxy Clean.”
“This isn’t right. No way. They can’t put a boot on my car. It’s not my fault.”
“As much as I wish I could be Judge Judy here, you and I both know it’s not me you have to convince.”
***
Ollie had a loud and angry conversation with the boot man, telling him to come right away, but he knew he had some time to kill before his arrival. In the meantime, they walked to the nearest gas station and borrowed a gas can. As they waited for the boot man, Ollie got madder and madder, pacing the parking lot so that by the time the boot man did show up half an hour later, Ollie was emotionally ready for him. He’d planned out everything he was going to say— starting off calmly to try to butter him up— and if that didn’t work, he’d let Mr. Bootguy know what he thought of him.
“Come on,” Ollie pleaded. “I couldn’t help it. My car ran out of gas and I had to leave it here until I could come back and get it.”
“I put the boot on the car over two hours ago. You could have come back a long time ago and you’d have a better case.”
“Please? I didn’t know I couldn’t park it here. How was I supposed to know?”
“Um, there’s a sign at every entrance to the parking lot?” He pointed.
“I just—”
“Listen,” the man said. “I’m just doing my job. I received a call from the gym saying that they saw you park your car here and walk the other direction. This parking lot is for gym customers only. Otherwise college students would be parking their cars here to walk to campus.”
“Okay, that’s fine. It’s your job, but you can let it slide if you want to. I’m sure you’ve made mistakes parking your car.”
“Yeah. About two months ago I accidentally parked my car in front of a fire hydrant.”
“There, see?”
“And my car got towed. I still had to pay the fee. You’re lucky I got here before the tow truck did. That would have cost you a lot more than fifty bucks.”
“You’re obviously paid on commission. I get that. You can let me off if you want to, but it’s all about the money for you.”
“Is there something wrong with that? Do you feel bad about taking money for your job, whatever you do?”
“You gotta hate your job, don’t you? I mean, people don’t despise me for doing my job. I bet you get all the hot girls while you go around putting boots on people’s cars, don’t you?”
“Listen,” the man said calmly as he handed Ollie a business card. “If you have a complaint about me or you want to dispute the fine, you can call the number on this card or file a complaint on the Web site.”
“Right. You and I both know that’s a cop out. That’s what you say when you know you’re wrong. Whoever the decision maker is on those complaints, if there even is one, doesn’t care about what someone has to say.”
Ollie continued to argue with the man for ten more minutes before Keith finally decided he didn’t need to stick around anymore, excused himself, and drove off. Ollie never succeeded in getting the man to drop the fine even a penny, nor did he successfully get the man to admit he was innocent. Finally, Ollie handed the man his debit card and watched him fill out the paperwork. When it was done and the boot was removed from Ollie’s tire, the only thing left was for him to sign on the dotted line. He stood there with the thick pad of carbon copy forms in his left hand and the pen in his right pretending to be reading the ticket.
“Just sign on the line please,” the man said.
“When I’m done. I don’t sign anything until I’ve read it. How am I supposed to know I’m not signing my first born over to you?”
“Please. We both have places to go.”
“You should have thought of that before you put that thing on my tire.”
It was the first and only time Ollie held the power in the conversation. Especially on a day when