Stick It Up Your....

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So it was a beautiful day Wednesday in Buffalo.

I was out visiting job sites. One after another. I was marveling at the progress in the city. I had also planned my visits so that I could grab a Godfather sandwich off the truck on the corner of Delaware and West Huron.

Tomaso's.

The guy makes a good sandwich. The Godfather is sausage and steak and provolone on a hoagie roll.

I paid the money for parking - fifty cents for ten freaking minutes and I headed to the truck.

People are nice in Buffalo. You can't pass someone without someone saying hello.

My mood was all right despite working like a crazed man lately.

I chatted with the guy making my sandwich. He took his time.

I thought about where my car was parked because as nice as the people are that's how rude the parking enforcement assholes are.

I got my sandwich and headed back to the car so I could eat it while reading about the state of the Sabres and Bills.

They're as bad as the sandwich was good.

After taking my first bite I looked up to see the parking ticket stuck under my windshield wiper.

It was 11:37 when I discovered the ticket.

I had been good to 11:34.

Where was that bastard? I scanned the area and saw three of the envelopes stuck on the people around me.

I grabbed the ticket and my paid receipt.

11:34 on the receipt.

He wrote the ticket at 11:31.

I may have even been back to the car at 11:34.

So.

I'm a writer, right?

I wrote a nice little letter and shoved it into the envelope.

Then I ate my sandwich.

It was awesome.

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