Hey Slave owner, Read much?

Posted on June 10, 2009
Filed Under Daily, Family, I Swear This is True, Newlywed, The Boss is in Cali and I'm Still Here | 8 Comments

In February, I tried out for a post-collegiate lacrosse team in my area, which I made, but ended up having to withdraw my name from the roster because The Boss and I were moving to L.A.
But turns out I’m still here and totally could have played, except I’m glad I didn’t because I have this theory about making new friends, which is that I don’t want any, and when people are all, “Sabrina, can I be your friend?” I’m like, “Auditions are over,” and sometimes people get their feelings hurt but I don’t care because I’m like, “Well, you should have been more aware of audition times.”

And really, what can you say to that?

Anyway, I had to go to this pre-tryout informational meeting in January, and even though it was Friday night, it was 7 p.m. so I assumed that the parking garage next to the restaurant we had to meet at would be free.

I was there for less than an hour, and as I was leaving the garage, the girl at the little garage box stopped me and was all, “One dollar please.” And I was like, “What the hell?”

Apparently, it doesn’t matter when you park at this particular garage, you always have to pay.
The night before, The Boss and I had gone out to dinner for his birthday, and when the valet brought us our car, The Boss took out some cash and then says to me, “Hey, do you have another dollar?” and I think I gave him two, and that was all the cash I had left on me.

If my dad is reading this, he’s probably getting really stressed because he’s been telling me my whole life to always have enough cash on me in case of an emergency, even though he never really defined what an “emergency” was.

In high school I’d be like, “Dad, can I have $200?” and he’d be like, “What?” and I’d be like, “Yeah, you know, in case me and Tina decide to go to the mall and I have an accident in my pants and I need to buy new jeans BECAUSE THAT WOULD TOTALLY COUNT AS AN EMERGENCY.” And then he’d be all, “Get the hell outta here” (seriously, that’s how he talks) and hand me $20 and be like, “Go see a movie,” and I’d be like, “Score! Come on Tina, let’s go buy drugs.”

And then my dad would get all serious-faced, and the next day he’d sit me down and talk to me about sex, drugs, alcohol and tattoos.
And that’s pretty much our father-daughter relationship, in a nutshell.

So anyway, I’m in the parking garage, digging around, pulling lint out of my pockets, and Canadian coins out of the change compartment in my car and the garage box lady goes, “Do you have a checkbook?” And I’m all, “Seriously? Can’t you just let me go — IT’S A DOLLAR.” And she goes, “Give me your driver’s license, we’ll mail you the bill and you have 30 days to pay it.” And I’m like, “This is called slavery.” And she’s like, “Excuse me?” and I’m like, “Yeah, you are totally trying to make me a slave to your garage box power.” And she’s like, “Ma’am, can I please have your license?”

So I reached into my purse, pulled out a gun and shot her in the face and handed her my license.

She looked at me like I was some crazed lunatic, and I’m like, “Um, hello? The DMV let’s you pick your own background now.”
(Even though they totally don’t, but I’m pretty sure she believed me.)

Readers, take a moment to look at the spelling of my name. And remember, SHE TOOK MY DRIVER’S LICENSE SO SHE COULD COPY DOWN MY NAME AND ADDRESS.

A few weeks later, I got this in the mail.

What?

Seriously?

So you mean to tell me that I GAVE YOU MY LICENSE and you came up with THIS?
I couldn’t even make this stuff up.

The Boss said her sheer stupidity merited me never paying the fine, but the letter they wrote me was all serious and said something about how if I don’t pay it within 30 days the fine would change from $1 to like $3,000 and then they’d take me to the slammer.

I get that I owed them the money, but the stamp they put on the envelope was worth almost half the cost of my fine — there’s just no logic, People. I wanted to make a point about basic human rights, compassion, and forgiveness (because if I had been sitting in that garage box, I totally would have let me go) so I decided not to pay the fine, and I’m actually typing this from jail right now.

Important Lessons I Learned from This Incident:

-Always keep dollar bills in your socks.
-Don’t trust people that own slaves.
-Accuse people of owning slaves, even if you can’t prove it.
-Everyone likes people from Canada — and Switzerland. They never do anything wrong.
-People in jail don’t think I’m funny.

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