Thursday, February 19, 2015

On My Magnum Opus

I went to a funeral a while back and after listening to people go on about some of the great things that this person did, it made me re-evaluate my own life.  What would I want people to say about me at my funeral?  This is what I would people to know about me:

Last summer, we re-paved our parking lot.  The 60-something obese gangsta-looking guy (complete with gold bling on his teeth that matched his gold rings on nearly every finger) that was doing the paving, suggested that we include a Handicapped parking stall when he striped in the yellow lines after re-paving.  I agreed, and thought it would be funny to have him paint the Handicap sign on the stall where Tim Dawson always parks, in front of Janitorial Supply.  I was right; it was funny.  It kind of bothered him to park in his favorite spot, he felt pretty dirty parking over a Handicap sign right in front of the building.  We gave him the usual razzing about parking where the old ladies should be able to, etc, but he still held dearly to his favorite spot.

This went on for a few weeks, until one day I was walking into the building, when I had a flash of inspiration.  Tim needs a parking ticket! I asked Haley if she could manufacture a City of Hutchinson parking ticket.  In less than an hour, she had printed off a prototype of a parking ticket, complete with bar code and the flashy City of Hutchinson logo.  The only thing I changed was I had her increase the violation cost from $75.00 to $250.00. She then printed it onto yellowish card stock, trimmed it, then I filled it out in ink.  When I went to sign it, I just glanced around my desk, and my eyes fell upon a work order for a patio cover with the customer name being, Kay Washington (name changed), so I signed it as Officer "K. Washington" and put it in my desk drawer.

I should take this time to describe Tim to you if you don't know him.  If you do know him, you know him to be a genuine person, eager to help, and really decent guy.  But... he is a little... um, lets say: volatile.  Yeah, that is the word; volatile!  The dictionary describes it as: "liable to change rapidly and unpredictably, especially for the worse."  Look it up, you'll see what he looks like too.  Easy to provoke, or get wound up; it provides us with no end of fun at the office...

So, later that week, on Friday, I enlisted Debbie from Janitorial Supply to help by sticking the ticket under the wiper blade while I took Tim to lunch.  While eating, Gary and I had whipped Tim up into a "frenzied lather" by giving him a perpetually hard time, about everything he was doing wrong, and just giving him grief in a big way.  He was really ready to be done with lunch by the time I brought him back to the office.  As we pulled into the parking lot, I saw one of my customers waiting there for someone at the other end of the building, as Haley was on her lunch break.  I was so frustrated that I had to take care of her because it meant missing Tim's reaction when he got the ticket!  Turns out she just needed a couple of parts, so I sprinted back to the shop, grabbed the parts, and bagged them for her, and told her there was no charge so I could get her out of the door faster; then rushed down the hall to the front desk of Janitorial Supply, where Tim would be, and casually opened the door to find Tim.  It had been about 10 minutes since I dropped him off.

There was Tim, sitting down, arms over his head, frowning, with his face the same shade as the Safety Cones on the road during maintenance and repair.  I will recount the conversation as dialogue thusly:

Me: Hows it going?

Tim: I GOT SET UP!

Me:  What?

Tim:  I'M TELLING YOU, I GOT SET UP!

Me: What are you talking about?

Tim: I'm telling you;  I GOT SET UP! That's the only way they could have know I was parking there!

Me: Dude, a little help here; what are you talking about?

Tim: I got a parking ticket for parking in a handicapped zone!

Me: So? You always park in that handicapped zone, don't you?  What did you expect?

Tim:  There ain't no way in the world there was a cop driving by on 4th Ave that could tell I was parked over a handicapped sign, and pulled in here to give me a ticket!  The only way he could have known, is if someone turned me in!!

Me:  Oh, come on!  Who would do that?

Tim: I don't know, but I'm going to figure it out!!!

Me: It was probably some little old lady that was tired of you hogging the closest parking spot!

Tim: (looking at ticket again) TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS???!! Oh, My ---!!!  Blankety, blank, blank blanking cops, blankty, blank, blankin' blanks blankety blank! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

Me: Seems like a lot...

Tim: I'm gonna figure out who did this...

Me:  Yeah, terrible.

Tim: I'm going down there to the Police Station to give that dirty blankety blank blank Keith a piece of my mind!

Me:  (Confused) Keith? Who is Keith?

Tim: Yeah, Keith Washington, the cop!  I whipped his tail at golf last year, and I bet he just laughed and laughed when he wrote up that ticket!  blankty, blank, blankin' blanks blankety blank! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! (loudly, and with gusto)

(Remember I wrote K. Washington as the signature?)

Me: (A little nervous) Um, just promise me you will let me know if you decide to go down there, ok?
Tim: TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS???!!!  I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!

Me: He's just doing his job, man!

Tim: Yeah, but in this case he was probably loving life, just laughing as he was writing out that ticket!

Me: Come on, man, how would you feel if someone hated your guts just because you sell toilet paper?  He's just doing his job.

Tim: TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS!!! blankty, blank, blankin' blanks blankety blank! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

Me: Yeah, seems high.

This goes on and on for about 10 more minutes...

Me: Well I've got stuff to do, let me know if you do decide to go down there; I'll go with you.

I go into my office and work for about 20 minutes...Then return to Janitorial Supply to talk to Tim.  He is much calmed down, but still quite agitated.  I was originally going to let him twist all weekend, but decided that he couldn't take it for so long.

Me: I've been thinking about that ticket, and it makes ME mad!

Tim: Me too!

Me:  I don't like the idea of them cops coming onto my property and passing out tickets in front of my building.  He had no idea that you weren't a customer!  That's bad for business!  That could have been our best customer, and he be mad at us for getting a ticket.  Is that even legal?

Tim: That's what I'm saying!!!

Me: (getting all grim) I ought to go down there and talk to that jerk.

Tim: (getting nervous) Now wait a minute, Dan, I'm kinda over it.

Me: I'm hacked!  What right do they have to do that?  That could drive customers away if they felt they could be targeted!  It was just a stupid joke, painting that sign there anyway.

Tim: Its alright, I'll pay it, I'll own, it; I parked there.

Me: No! Its not alright!  I'll pay it, but first I'll give those guys a piece of my mind; lemme have that ticket!

Tim: Really, man, its OKAY!  I'll just pay it!

Now at this point, I should explain, and I've no idea of the validity of this, but Tim at least, was under the impression that if you tear up a ticket, you could and would be thrown in jail.  I have never heard of this...

Me: (taking ticket) I'm going down there to shove this thing where the sun don't shine! (I rip ticket in half)

Tim: Hey, you can't do that, they'll throw me in Jail!!

Me: oh, yeah, well screw them! They got no right to come on my property and enforce stupid traffic violations!  (and seeing Tim's shocked expression,  I ripped it into about 10 more pieces and threw them in the air.)

Tim: (to Debbie) Oh Mah Gahd!!! THEY GONNA THROW ME IN JAY-EL!!!!

(I go stomping out doors)

So then I turn around and go back in the store and see him scrambling on the floor picking up pieces of tickets.

I told him, "Hey, um, Tim, it was all just a prank;  I had Haley make the ticket."
He stands up, looks at me open mouthed.  "Huh?" he says.  "Yeah, and Debbie put it under your wiper blade while we were at lunch".  He just stares at me for 30 seconds, the color going back into his face, returning to safety cone orange.  "A Joke?" he says.  "Yeah,"  I reply, "just a joke."  At this point I'm literally backing up, because he starts looking like he might take a swing, and I don't want to have to defend myself against someone that was my friend just 5 minutes ago.  "A prank, huh?" he asks again.  "Yeah, just a joke; I've been planning it all week."

So he abruptly leaves the office.  He comes back in about an hour, in a better mood, and admits that was the best prank ever played.

I can die happy now...




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