Is this your car, Madam?

So cross I can hardly speak – came back to my car in the municipal carpark – late I admit, to discover Australian traffic warden equivalent smugly standing writing a ticket. I tried trilling “I’m here” in an ingratiating tone in an effort to stop him slapping infringement notice on windscreen. He was not a man to be moved, and from his expression he has dealt with a number of Mosman Mothers far more glamorous than I, attempting to woo him with winning smiles and dulcet tones.

“Too late” he said with relish.

I am proud of myself in that I paused before climbing calmly into the car and asked him pleasantly and with commendable restraint whether I could now move the car, and had he got all the details he needed. I was amazed by my self control as inside I was seething with rage and longing to hurl myself upon him like an avenging vampire. The vampire simile brought on less because of my blood sucking tendencies, and indeed my main wish was to spill his blood rather than sup it, but because I was wearing a large grey wrap which I like to think makes me look svelte and sophisticated but which actually I fear creates more of an impression of an elderly flying fox let out from the nursing home.

Spitting with rage doesn’t begin to describe my emotions, and now I have calmed down I find my fury quite interesting as:
a) I was completely in the wrong – the expression “It’s a fair cop, Guv” comes to mind, (particularly from one as addicted to ‘The Bill” as I am).

b) This is only the third parking ticket I have had in the last five years and I can assure you there have been numerous occasions where I deserved to get a ticket and escaped, so in the cat and mouse game of parker v traffic warden, I am definitely a winner and grinner.

c) I am normally a calm and rational person (note this is a self assessment, the Drama Queens and Simon may have a different take on the issue), but I was ridiculously cross about the whole thing and in fact the traffic warden was very unwise to appear in my rear view mirror as I pulled out.

d) I freely acknowledge that traffic wardens do a necessary and wonderful job and are underappreciated by society.

The whole experience has made me think that being a traffic warden must be one of the least rewarding jobs in the world, and no matter what, I must not become one. If by malign misfortune it is the only career left to me, I am such a coward I must ensure that I only place tickets on cars where there is absolutely no chance of the owner returning and catching me at it, as the risk of verbal and physical abuse and nasty looks from complete strangers is far too high.