Pilot

Big Ralph was as ravenous as the pigeons that were devouring the scraps of discarded food that littered the doorway to the fast food joint. He crooked his head to the side in an almost look of love at the hungry birds. First things first, he thought, better pay the meter. The café was located on the main road. He rustled in his pockets for some change, fed the meter and received his ticket. He stuck the ticket to his windscreen.

Ordering his usual -three burgers, fries and a large coke- Ralph pondered on the fact that nothing in life is free. Won’t be long before someone taxes the air they breathe. After all, at one time there used to be a window tax. Daylight robbery, the masses called it. The more windows you had, the more you paid. Good job that one got thrown out with the bath water. This place was all windows. From floor to roof it was a glass palace of eating.

Chewing on the gristle on the first bite of the first burger while reading the complimentary newspaper of the outlet, a paper that had had its fill of grubby, greasy fingers, Ralph saw movement beside his car. He looked out the window and saw a traffic warden tucking a ticket under his window wipers. Stupefied, his chair scraped the floor backwards as he went out to confront the errant warden.

“I’ve got a legitimate ticket on my car,” roared Ralph.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s not visible,” said the uniformed inspector.

Ralph was not in a pantomime mood to engage in a war of words so he checked his windscreen for himself. His ticket was not visible. On the outside anyway. A kit of pigeons had bombarded his windscreen with droppings, hiding his ticket.

“It’s their fault. Look,” Ralph opened his car door and pulled his ticket from the window. “There’s my ticket. Valid today.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the warden’s tone was neutral. “The penalty has been issued and documentation registered on the computer.”

“Couldn’t you have used your sleeve to wipe the window before booking me? You guys really are the pits.” Ralph looked to the heavens to see a solitary pigeon sitting on a lamp post. It had its head slanted but there was no love lost between the doer and the receiver. Ralph went back into the fast food place to continue his meal. His table had been cleared. Burgers, fries and coke straight down the chute of the bin.

“Thought you’d cleared off,” said the waitress.

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