Friday, February 27, 2015

The Specials, Pt. II

Cambridge parking meter. Guess they don't need the money.
I've railed on some of the issues that the antisocial types here -- I call them The Specials -- can't seem to fathom.

Here are some of the crimes committed by people here every day:

* Cutting in traffic -- Boston streets are stupid. They were laid out on top of horse trails and walking paths created almost 400 years ago. There are bottlenecks everywhere. And a decent percentage of dirtball drivers routinely jump in through lanes (usually on the right) and then stop traffic at the last second trying to force their way back in. Apparently they think they're above waiting like everyone else has to. Further, they don't give a crap about blocking an entire lane of through traffic. They suck. 

* Blocking the box -- People block intersections on the reg. You're not supposed to enter unless you can get all the way through. I don't understand why they do; if they're at the tail end of a line of cars, they're not getting anywhere faster. But they don't care about blocking cross traffic, because it's Boston and FUCK YOU! I have a fantasy of standing in an intersection with a hammer and smashing cars that do this. Because they won't be able to move away from it.

Of course, BPD or Staties could stop this, or at least inhibit it, if they'd stand watch at intersections and bottlenecks. But that would require their fat asses to actually do something.

What DO they do, anyway? Shockingly, BPD officers AVERAGE salaries top six figures.

AVERAGE.

I'm all for cops being paid well. But that means working every now and then.
* Fortunately, I saw a cop earn his money in a major way in Belmont. The crime that runs most rampant behind the wheel is double parking. It again speaks to the selfish nature of people here: They can't be bothered to share a community and wait for parking, plan ahead, work with a partner or generally not be dicks. So they double park, because it's Boston and FUCK YOU!

A few weeks ago I was in a great bakery in Belmont, Ohlin's. The street parking is precious, but there are spots, you might have to circle a bit to find one, or you just realize that your wish for buttery sweet donuts that day is going to go unfulfilled and you deal.

I found a space, that last one ahead of prohibited parking that would block a fire hydrant. (TWICE in the last several months, some ass has blocked a hydrant firefighters had to get to because a FREAKING HOUSE WAS BURNING DOWN! They bashed in the windows of both cars to run hoses through. Those owners' homes should be set on fire and told whenever they can break through their cars to get to the hydrant, they'll be put out.

Back to Belmont: I park, and before I can even get out of my car, a swarthy trog whips in in front of me, wedging into the hydrant access. He put on his flashers, got out and went into a store. I glared at him, got out and went to Ohlin's.

Minutes later, I come back to my car. Of course he's still there. But now, a new wrinkle: And older woman double parks blocking me AND hydrant trog. As I walk to my door, she looks at me and says "I'll just be about five minutes." She pauses a second, and says "Three minutes!"

Yeah, lady. No problem. Take all the time you want. Of course I should wait for you three or five minutes, because you're more important than me. Who am I?

As she says this and walks away into another store, lo and behold, a Belmont cop drives the opposite direction down the street, slowing as the traffic does. We make eye contact and I kind of throw my arms up, hopeful that he grasps what's happening.

He does.

He flips on the lights and bangs a U. He pulls up behind double parking lady's car.

Hey lady, it's gonna be more than five minutes for you, I think.

Cop jumps out, ticket pad in hand. She's inside, but comes out pretty quickly. Swarthy comes out even faster. By this time he's blocked the hydrant at least 10 minutes.

He starts in on the cop. "I was only a few minutes." Cop's not having it. Then the guy starts mouthing off. Bad idea, dude. Cop barks at him.

Double park lady also tries to talk her way out of it. Cop tells her to move forward so I can get out. She has the audacity to turn toward me and whine "You're a real pal!"

"You double parked!" I say. Game over. The truth hurts.

Will it change their behavior? Probably not. But it changed their bank accounts, and maybe their insurance rates. Fuck them. And thank you, thank you, thank you, Belmont Police.

Every now and then, the bad guys lose.

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