Towed? WHAT?

This is one of those days when I think violence must solve more problems the easy way sometimes. My scooter was, as far as I'm concerned, illegally towed last night. The towing will be $85 when I pay the fuckers out of my nice new "mostly for rent" cheque today. There's still a city ticket on top of that, but I'm so fighting that bitch.

See, I'm no dummy. I had a by-law enforcement officer take a walk with me once and show me all the legal places to park, explaining why it's legal, and for the three years since that chat, I've not been ticketed or towed once. So, what's up with last night?

I'm left wondering if the area I was in was owned by the city, in which case it's not private property, etc, etc. In any case, I'm broke, I'm pissed, and my week deserved to end better than this.

But it kept me from wanting to write last night, and ditto this morning. Especially since I've got to go ride the bus carrying my helmet, work my full day, then find the stupid bike at whatever moronic tow lot it's at.

The thing that goads me is, I'll fight the ticket, and even if I win and prove it's wrongful, I'm STILL stuck paying for the ticket. The kicker? Towing a scooter costs MORE than a car ($85! Groceries? Who needs groceries, right?). Fuck, man!

Fuck you, Buster's Towing, and fuck you, city of vancouver vindictive-little-bylaw-person.

BUT... for every few dicks like that in the world, there's one like this who makes living life a promising, hopeful thing. With that, I'm off to find a lowly bus. I'll fetch my abandoned, sad little scooter this evening. Maybe I'll even reward Pussycat with a washing this weekend. Poor, poor Pussycat.