GOTCHA!

The plan: Meet Greg and his boys — our son and grandsons — and take in an after-school Staples baseball

game on a sunny early-May afternoon.  I drove in to the high school grounds the “back way” — the narrow road that allows you to circumvent the busy main entrance and head straight for the large, long parking lot that runs parallel to the side of the building.  I didn’t even try for the spaces that rim the athletic fields, since a.) we’d arrived after first pitch and I knew those spots would already have been snapped up by early-arriving eager beavers; and b.) those also happen to be the spots where car roofs and hoods are subjected to a constant barrage of foul balls.  This was not, as you might have guessed, my first rodeo.

It was, however, the first time I was returning to a Wreckers baseball game since the days when our sons played there, and our oldest is now 42.  So, a long time.

Staples, as it turned out, would lose to  Fairfield Warde 6-4, but the boys got to witness a home run bomb by Wreckers catcher and co-captain Max Jossen, and also managed to memorize the names and numbers of all the Staples players.  Plus, it was a gorgeous day.  Plus, there was a big, boisterous Friday afternoon crowd.

Arriving back at my car after the game, my cheery mood got ruined by an unpleasant surprise: a ticket (with the word VIOLATION in big, bold letters) wedged under my wiper blade on the passenger side.  For “Reckless Driving.”  With a “Minimum fine of $250.”  I exploded.  “You’ve got to be kidding!” I bellowed to Greg, who was with me in the lot.   “This spot is perfectly legal!  I’ve parked here a zillion times!”  These exclamations, as you can imagine. were spiced up with a healthy dose of expletives.

Greg took the summons from me and examined it.  As he got to the fine print, he started laughing.  “Looks like you’ve been scammed,” he said, and began reading aloud some of the phrasing. Please make checks payable to Yo Momma . . . If paying online, please visit www.payupsucka.org . . . You can create your account by entering your Social Security Number and all your credit card info . . .  If you prefer you can pay in person at your local county building; before arriving please make sure you are wearing a clown suit . . . By now you have probably figured out this is a prank/joke, not a real ticket; it’s only to have fun at your expense.

True, this story has absolutely nothing to do with dogs.  But I did get a kick — after the initial shock wore off — out of the effort and craft these kids (kid?) put into their gag.

Got me?  Damn right they did!

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