Chaos is fair

I’m not a big fan of heroics, but a great story really does tug at my heartstrings (the three of them I have left). I would tend not to condone driving under the influence, but how great of a story would it be to get a DUI between 8 a.m. and noon? Or what about getting a DUI while biking? I guess DUIs shouldn’t really be involved in your lifelong ambitions, but we all have our own hopes and dreams, right?

If there’s one thing I could have above all else in the world, it’d be to get a speeding ticket while walking. Those 5 mph speed limit signs are a real speed trap. If I were a cop, I’d get the Krispy Kreme delivery service on speed dial and chill there indefinitely, easily surpassing my ticket quota. Serves those athlete-wannabe types right for “jogging.” Pretentious health nuts.

Once you’re so well in touch with the law as I am, I think it’s only fair for you to be granted the privilege of handing out tickets for things that clearly should be offenses. Like people who walk painfully slowly three abreast (heheh, I said breast) across the sidewalk and prevent us important folk from going places. Or people who talk on their cell phones in check-out lines and take twice as long to pay.

And of course, worst of all, this recent trend in our general culture to accept that a car’s hazard lights can be used as a “Free Parking Anytime, Anywhere” pass. I’m not really OK with this trend, because it’s unfair to those of us who are actually important enough to have “Free Parking Anytime, Anywhere” passes. The snipers on top of the White House were pretty pissed when I drove up and parked right in the Lincoln Bedroom, but hey, Obama and I go way back.

These hazardous parkers really need to be punished somehow. Because Duke Parking has too little to do and too much time (wait, switch those words around ‘til it makes sense), I’ve taken it upon myself to help them out. I’ve been putting tickets on any student’s car that is parked somewhere illegally with its hazards on. The only exception to my rule is if there are key three Greek letters on the car, it slides by, because I obviously can’t ticket cute little girls. It’s all in the man code. Ticketing attractive women just starts a vicious cycle that makes everyone worse off.

The crux of my revenge plan on these egotistical parking fiends is that I needed a lot of real-looking tickets, and I’m just not that autistic—errr, artistic. Pretty much what it came down to is that I needed to park my car in the Allen building lot at all times, except for on football game days when I put it in the Blue Zone and on basketball game days when I put it in the Card Gym lot. The majority of Duke Parking’s revenue comes from my 616 tickets since August. So, sorry Anabel, you’ll probably not be getting Christmas presents from me this year. Maybe you can hope for something extra from Santa.

To my unhappy daughter and all you doubters, you’ve gotta trust me. Creating all that unnecessary worry for the students who don’t actually have tickets and all that confusion for Duke Parking will be worth it. Imagine the chaos that I’ll have created: Literally dozens of people who keep calling in to Duke Parking about why they can’t pay their tickets, and Duke having no idea how to solve the problem.

Maybe they’ll just charge you anyway. I wouldn’t put it past ’em. Revenue is revenue, and we all gotta get paid. They’re just going to take advantage of you ending up on the wrong side of the chaotic chasm. And you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair.