I hate Baltimore....

I hate Baltimore.

I mean I really do fucking hate this fucking city.

For those who don't know, the city is run by idiotic liberal democrats. It has been for decades and look what they created; look at what great liberal idea was birthed from that rancid and festering mind. A city where liberals don’t need to compromise with conservatives. A city that is a true expression leftist design. A city overrun with bureaucracy and staffed with the lowest levels of human incompetence. State employees armed with their guidebooks, and armed with their rulebooks, low level hacks who put in their seven hours a day. Annoyed “workers” irritated that you interrupted them from pressing questions of the day, “What a I going eat for lunch today?”

I hate Baltimore.

I tried to renew my tags online today. I haven’t received anything in the mail, and my tags expired in September. No go - “An error has occurred.” Upon further analysis of the page I discovered I have an outstanding parking violation in Baltimore City. Ahh, the City that Reads! Charm City! The city I work in. Baltimore City! Parking ticket though? Seemed like bullshit to me. A mistake? I DON’T PARK ON THE STREET. I never do. Parking on the street is a pain in the ass. I always like the ease and convenience of garages and I don’t mind paying for it.

I hate Baltimore.

So I leave work in the middle of the day and walk to the Abble building. Constructed in the 50s the building hurts the eyes; uglies the skyline. Abble building, named after a person no doubt, certainly not named for the incompetent drones that walk those sickly green halls. Abble building, I think this may be what writers call Irony. Upon arrival I wait 25 minutes while the 4 people ahead of me are assisted. At last, it's my turn. I pass my registration to a clawed hand behind the counter. Bejeweled and painted fingernails 3 inches in length scratch and bend the paper in an attempt to grasp the 3x5 piece of card stock. A gold tooth snarls back at me. I ask for information about my parking ticket.

I hate Baltimore.

Claws click away at a keyboard.

I hate Baltimore.

$477.

I hate Baltimore.

It appears that on Oct. 10^th 2002 I parked in a passenger loading zone at 200 West Madison St. I don’t know where the fuck that street is and I certainly don’t remember getting any fucking parking tickets.

I hate Baltimore.

It also appears that the address on file was my old address. My car is clearly registered to me at my current address. Instead the glorious Department of Motor Vehicles have been mailing warnings to a residence that I haven’t lived in for over 4 years. “This isn’t that bad, I see tickets for thousands of dollars every day” Somehow that makes me feel even worse. “Is there someone I can talk to?” I plead. “Can I argue this?”

I hate Baltimore.

“No, not until after you pay first”

I hate Baltimore.

“Fill out this form. It takes 6 months to a year to get a court date”

I hate Baltimore.

“Also writing a letter does not guarantee a trial.”

I hate Baltimore.

So here I am, I need $477 dollars to pay a $20 parking ticket I didn’t even know I had so I can spend $178 to register my fucking car. $655 I don’t fucking have right now. I understand Baltimore needs to generate some revenue somehow. After all, they taxed and regulated all the revenue generating businesses out of the area. Someone has to pay. Looks like today I’m the one getting fucked in the ass.

I fucking really truly do hate Baltimore.

-Otter

(Sorry for the profanity, but I am really not happy today)