One day, I leave the restaurant and I see a police officer who writes a ticket.
I approached him and said:
- I stayed only five minutes at the baker’s. Can not you cancel this ticket?
He ignores me superbly and continues to write.
“You heck, I can not resist telling him.
And now he draws another ticket for lack of reflective plate at the front of the vehicle.
My blood is only a trick and I bawl it copiously:
- Ostia failed, byproduct of stupid, cursed dog, helpless, illiterate, hypertrophied hemorrhoid and so on!
Ah, there, I used all the riches of my vocabulary. It goes on for another quarter of an hour, and the cop, without flinching, accumulates the tickets under the windshield wiper.
I see that all this leads us to nothing and I throw in the towel.
So, after leaving the agent, I walk quietly to my car, parked two streets away, leaving the pleasure to my boss to discover his car leaving the restaurant …