I received a parking ticket this morning. I aim to contest it, as the block I was parked on had no signs anywhere indicating any sort of restrictions, at least on my side of the street. The man is trying to make a monkey out of me, but I won’t take the banana. Dig?

I saw a report on the news this morning about a woman filing a complaint against a police officer. It seems that the officer broke into her apartment during some sort of drug bust, and caught red-handed, she asked if there was anything she could do to save herself jail time. He told her she could do him a favor; she thought he meant rat on a supplier. Instead, he took her upstairs and requested she perform a sexual act on him. Afterward, she managed to save trace amounts of his bodily fluids, which she then brought forth as evidence in her complaint. Now, I don’t condone at all law enforcement abusing their power for sexual favors, and I would like to see this bastard prosecuted. But, of course, this serious and not at all funny story reminds me of a whimsical story handed down to me one drunken evening on the Rue de Faible, by an elderly gentleman who insisted he was my “Great-Aunt Gene”. Allow me to set the scene: a secluded country interstate. And the players: a hapless yet attractive reckless female driver, and a police officer, of the corrupt variety.

And so the story goes:

Cop: License and registration please, ma’am.

Woman: How fast was I going, officer?

Cop: You were going ninety miles per hour in the thirty mile an hour zone.

Woman: That’s very fast.

Cop: Isn’t it?

Woman: I didn’t see any signs posted.

Cop: You ran them all over.

Woman: No.

Cop: I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a ticket.

Woman: Please, officer, it’s my first offense.

Cop: Says here it’s your thirtieth offense this year.

Woman: But it’s my first this month.

Cop: [writes out ticket]

Woman: How much is the ticket for?

Cop: Seven thousand dollars.

Woman: You’re kidding.

Cop: Wish I were. The Chicago Department of Revenue needs that money to build private orphanages for the children of deceased unwed teenaged mother millionaires.

Woman: Is there any way I can get out of the ticket?

Cop: Ordinarily, no. But since I am a police officer of the corrupt variety, that provides us several options. First, you can give the money directly to me.

Woman: I don’t have my checkbook.

Cop: Just as well, as I’d prefer cash. Second, I could make you strip down to your underwear and walk along the yellow line in the middle of the road, while I follow closely in my patrol car and yell humiliating things through the loudspeaker.

Woman: I saw that one on Dateline.

Cop: Me too. That’s where I got the idea.

Woman: What else?

Cop: Third, you could perform a sexual act on me.

Woman: Which sexual act?

Cop: Ladies’ choice.

Woman: How about a kiss?

Cop: No.

Woman: Anything else?

Cop: Fourth, you could just pay the ticket.

Woman: Seven thousand dollars… I don’t know…

Cop: Seven thousand dollars, thirty dollars, five hundred dollars, whatever.

Woman: I can’t afford it. I have children to feed. I’ll do option number three.

Cop: You did hear me rule out the kiss, right?

Woman: What about a French kiss?

Cop: Your two choices are this [makes obscene gesture with hands] or this [makes obscene gesture with hands and face].

Woman: What about this [makes obscene gesture with hands and nose]?

Cop: Honestly, lady! I do have some standards.

Woman: Fine then. I’ll do the second one.

Cop: Fine. Before we begin I would like to ask you to be courteous and please wait 24 hours after this incident before you report my criminal behavior to my superiors. Can you do that?

Woman: I suppose.

Cop: Also, I must ask that you refrain from collecting any bodily fluids as evidence, as that would void our agreement and the ticket would be issued. Do you agree to that?

Woman: Fine.

Cop: Can you sign this affadavit to that effect?

Woman: [signs affadavit]

Cop: Hooray! Evil wins the day!

Am I being insensitive?