Wednesday night, I got my tire slashed by an enraged drunk man in Hillcrest. We’ll call him “Strawberry Blond,” ’cause that’s the nickname the cops ended up giving him. So, Strawberry Blond was working, unloading a late-night shipment (I won’t say where, ’cause I’d have to use the “alleged” word a billion times) when he accosted me. I parked in a yellow zone near the loading dock. It was well after 6 p.m., however, so I stood my ground and told Strawberry Blond, whose breath indicated he’d been drinking on the job, to back off—commercial vehicles get the prime curb space only until 6 p.m., isn’t that enough?
I left my car parked comfortably in the yellow and went off to have a veggie burger at Crest Cafe. When I came back, I tried to pull away, only to find my front right tire flat. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. I called the cops and we took care of it. Of course, since there weren’t any eyewitnesses, there was nothing the good ol’ SDPD could do.
As if that whole experience wasn’t enough, last night, I got pulled over in Tijuana for making an illegal U-turn.
I know what you’re thinking: What the fuck was I thinking, right? Well, there are approximately 376 roundabouts in Tijuana, which means you have to loop around one of these crazy things about every third mile. I get tired of adding the extra mileage, so this one time I decide to take a little short cut and just flip around the median instead of driving full circle.
Blame it on my one-quarter-Irish luck, a cop happened to drive by right at the wrong moment. He pulled me over. I used my slowly growing Spanish vocabulary to talk my way clear through the part where he asked me for a $40 bribe (I got him down to $20) to the moment when — now, keep in mind, this was post-bribe — he asked me where I liked to bailar (dance). The $20-richer cop asked me out on a date after he took my hard-earned babysitting cash! I politely declined the offer.
Truth be told, I actually prefer the Tijuana way of handling traffic violations. There’s a lot less paperwork and it only takes a few minutes to dig into your wallet and hand over the cash. Plus, if you’re a truly desperate lady, you may score a date.
