I’ve got to start carrying a camera again. That’s just all there is to it.
There are times that images are best – and I say this, as a writer! Last night was one of those times. So, indulge me, and you’ll see why my moment of digital lacking pains me so greatly.
While waiting for the bus home, I couldn’t help but notice the car directly across the street. The car, with the bright orange boot lock on its rear passenger tire, was kind of hard to ignore. I felt a twinge of sympathy, knowing first-hand the evil ways of the Nazi parking police.
The windows on the car were tinted, so I didn’t realize there was someone inside until a guy of 20-25 emerged. The orange stripe that parted his dark hair was not that dissimilar from the neon orange of the boot. Though it wasn’t quite a Mohawk, the stripe stood at least an inch above the rest of his hair.
Yes, dude. You’re clearly a paying member of the antiestablishment movement. (The punk revolution of the ‘80s returns. Rock on.)
But here’s a bit of advice: The next time you visit downtown St. Louis – especially if you still have outstanding parking violations – DON’T, as in DO NOT, park directly in front of the City of St. Louis’ PARKING VIOLATION ENFORCEMENT OFFICE.
How’s that for visual irony? The car – in front of a glass storefront identifying itself as the Nazi parking police, the boot firmly in place. And the orange of the boot complementing the orange stripe.
D*mn! I still can’t believe I missed this.