Traffic Officer Filosi As Perfect Metaphor

So I have a meeting after work w/ Michael Bowes
aka Central Productions aka "AERO" Fiscal Sponsor.
Chit-chat about Fall 2007 letter writing campaign
("best time is 'tween Halloween & Thanksgiving!")
& potential Spring 2008 fundraiser.
Anything to bridge the $10 grand gap
& get "AERO" done & out to fests!

We meet @ 6:30PM in Davis Square, Somerville...
naturally enough in front of the Somerville Theatre.
Adjoin to the re-vitalized coffee shop next door
where I order Morrocan Tea
& Michael has a shot of expresso.
I even have a syllabus of sorts printed up,
denoting progress points since last we met
some six or more months ago.
I have this meeting timed, I tell you.
1/2 hour tops w/ maybe some 5-10 mins. spill.
It all goes well enough...I talk about "AERO"
& ask my fundraising questions & Michael answers.
Good productive stuff.
The perfect post-work "work".

Only I get back to the work truck @ 7:20PM
& there's a $20 parking ticket courtesy of
City of Somerville & Traffic Officer Filosi
Badge #322.
Where is that prick?
I parked in a metered lot @ quarter of six,
put in two quarters for an hour's worth of time.
Further, I took a pre-meeting trip to Brooks
& purchased trail mix just for the .25 change
so I could charge up meter another 1/2 hour.
I was covered 'til 7:15PM.
Per computer print-out slip the ticket's issued--
7:19:39PM.
Four minutes over!

I see Filosi @ corner of lot...
that's how close we're overlapping.
He's still in breathing room,
still within the trajectory of the minute.
I go over & talk...oh so calmly...
"Excuse me. I was just four minutes tardy."
(see how calm? I use the word "tardy")
"What do you want me to do about it?" he says.
A little under-sized bald guy,
his smirk a hatchet-mark of insolence.
"What are you asking me?" he adds.

"I want you to take this back," I say...
holding the day-glo stub stub out to him.
"I was paid up on the meter 'til 7:15.
I just missed it by four minutes."

"I see a blinking meter light, I ticket.
It doesn't matter how long it's been blinking."
And with that he's away,
punching in violations & fine allotments
on his little computer box which he wears
on a cord 'round his neck.
Traffic Officer Filosi taking no gruff,
bearing no excuses.
Just doing his sacred duty.

Now I feel rage.
Murderous push-the-little-guy rage.
I'm no muscleman but I'm supremely confident
I could kick Filosi's ass,
maybe run over his arm w/ the work truck.
Or do permanent spinal damage.
Oh they're just words on a blog now,
after-the-fact threats as meaningless as sap.
But I suppress a lot
and these homicidal impulses do come out.
Feelings of sheer unreason & destruction.
Only I'm w/ the work truck...
and anything I do
is a reflection of my job...the day thing
keeping this whole kittenkaboodle together.
You know, the past 5 years of monies
that made it possible to do a little sci-fi film.
It wasn't all talk of fundraisers that got me here.
And I & the company-emblazoned truck
would be easy association for Traffic Officer Filosi
if anything stupid were to transpire.

So what's the worse that could happen?
Out after-hours w/ the truck,
even if I pay I'm sure Operations will get some kind of receipt--
proof-positive that Truck #10 was out in Somerville
on Tuesday, September 11th at 7:19:39PM!
I'm so dependent on the work truck.
It's my transport to & from work.
I can no longer afford $75/week public transport costs
(commuter rail round trip, 354 bus round trip)...
my weekly expense money is $100.
They take away the truck-- it's bye-bye job. Seriously.

So I take a deep breath & let it go.
Easy to blame Traffic Officer Filosi
oh so easy.
But it's my fault.
Even if he was waiting/watching for the meter to run out
(I gotta think he was, the parking lot wasn't his only route;
I saw him on Elm Street as I pulled out, headed home...
the odds of him just happening across the expired meter
by happenstance in those four O/S minutes? slim)...
I should've could've--
Parked later than 5:45PM. Driven to the supermarket.
Got an extra quarter for the meter just in case.
Checked my watch more often during the meeting.
Wrapped it up sooner. Bribed Filosi w/ an extra $20.
I dunno. There were possibilities.
I've grown over-accustomed to having the work truck,
it's a luxury.
And I abused it last night. Even if it was directly after work,
even if it was film-related.
I needed to aggressively plan.

Because there are many Traffic Officer Filosi's out there.
Little hobgoblins that'll chip away at you.
$20 here. A handfull of credibility there.
A pottery wheel of escalating ugly clay,
that'll ultimately weigh you down.
And I'll have no one else to blame but myself.
Because I wasn't strident enough
Because I wasn't over-cautious, over-planned.
I'm on a tightwire.
I can't afford to pratfall.
Me. Me. Me.
Don't blame the messenger.

Although if the gay baboon from the zoo
was to break out...
I'd wish Traffic Officer Filosi nothing less than face herpes.