Seal of Approval

So, this morning I’m at the place where I get my haircut, and the couple of older gentlemen who always seem to be starting their days by sitting around the waiting room shooting the poop with the owner start to stir because a parking enforcement officer walks by the front window. One fellow sticks his head out the door to see whether he got a ticket. He’s parked in a ten-minute loading zone, so he’s good for now. The other guy walks swiftly after the officer to make sure that he puts some money in the meter before she reaches it.

Meanwhile, I notice a big, very shiny black Cadillac (the newer, boxier kind) making a three-point turn in the middle of the street. Now, not only is this maneuver illegal, but it’s a stupid thing to do on such a busy street. But this guy’s not done. He pulls his big, very shiny car up to the curb in front of an optometrist’s office, puts on his flashers, and strolls into the shop. Now, this is a very clearly marked area with No Parking signs and bright yellow lines painted up and down the curb in front of this shop. Apparently, this gentleman’s glasses or the like were not quite ready, because he was standing in front of the shop’s glass door looking out onto the street with his hands in his pockets.

In was then that I recognized him as Pittsburgh’s own version of Johnny Cochran. Jim Ecker. Prominent defense attorney to the guilty scumbags of Western Pennsylvania. I also notice that he has a funky license plate. It is a Pennsylvania plate, but it has some kind of seal on it. He continues to stand in the doorway of the shop while a parade of cars and buses swerves to go around his glorified hearse parked out front.

My business completed, I leave and head up the street to where my car is parked. I had put a quarter in the meter upon my arrival because I’ve learned my lesson that 25 cents is a small price to pay to park for a short time rather than risking a $16 ticket. I mean, really, that’s like throwing money away. So, I drive my car past Jim’s Caddy and sneak a peak at his official-looking license plate. It turns out that the seal is a Fraternal Order of Police seal, like the stickers that so many people put on their cars after they make donations to the FOP, hoping that the stickers will somehow prevent them from getting potential tickets. I’m here to tell you folks that, although this story has taken me a long time to get to the punch line, I can safely say that at least on this day, the seal worked.

I watched the parking officer walk down the street right by Jim’s car without hesitating for a second before she turned the corner and headed toward other parked cars. If that had been my car parked in front of that shop with my hazards on while I waited inside, that officer would have run, no, sprinted toward my poor little car to slap a nice big ticket on the windshield. Damn Jim Ecker and his special treatment. He defends child-molesters and murderers. I know, I know. I’m sorry. He defends alleged child-molesters and murderers.