| |
Dottie turned the heat up in her Cadillac to eighty-four degrees and turned her seat heater as high as it would go. She loved what she often referred to as her “butt cooker.” Sometimes, if her back hurt, she’d go out and sit in the car. The butt cooker was much better than a heating pad, although the doctor told her that was absurd, and it was the same thing. Dottie just stared at him with her frosty countess look and said nothing else.
The pale afternoon sun was fading, and it was cold again, really cold. She was worried about sliding on black ice on her way home. Admittedly, her eyes weren’t 20/20 but were better since her cataract surgery and her lens implant, no matter what Mic said. She closed her eyes to rest for a moment and about jumped out of her skin when someone knocked loudly on her driver’s window. Her eyes flew open.
It was a blue uniformed Richmond police officer. Dottie jammed her hand on the electric window button, but her window wouldn’t move. She pushed all of the buttons trying to make something happen, but nothing did. She started to yell at the cop as she tried to explain, but he only stood quietly and gave her a stony look. Finally, she pushed the right button and the errant window rolled down slowly.
“Yes, sir?” Dottie inquired as she gave him her best smile. She was so glad Dr. Dude had done a great job on her veneers. She hoped her dental bridge didn’t click as it often did when she smiled sweetly. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“Driver’s license and registration, please,” the officer said solemnly. He didn’t return her smile.
Dorothy fumbled around in her glove compartment and console and searched for her registration. She could never find the thing. “I’m searching, Officer. Here’s my license.” She poured everything out of her designer purse and emptied it on the seat next to her. Nothing. She looked at him. “Suppose I can’t find my registration?”
He just stared at her and said nothing.
Dottie fumbled a little longer and said, “Well, I just can’t seem to put my fingers on it, but I think you need to tell me why you have stopped me.”
The officer pointed with his nightstick to the “No Parking” sign right beside her car.
Dottie’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am. You are in a no parking zone.” He took her license and added, “I’ll be right back.”
“I didn’t know. I’ll move,” she said quickly before he left.
“You’ve been parked here for over twenty minutes.”
Dottie opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t give her time.
“I’ve watched you. You’ve been here,” he said as he checked his watch, “actually closer to thirty minutes.”
Dottie smiled as demurely as any member of noble family could. “I’m so sorry. I’ll move right away.”
“Yes, you will, but not until I write your citations, one for the parking violation and the other for no registration. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” His voice was firm, his eyes unsmiling.
Dottie stared at him as her blue eyes narrowed into slits. She couldn’t believe it. He was giving her a ticket. Her, the Countess Borghase. An aristocrat. A noblewoman. She started to say something smart but decided she didn’t want to spend the afternoon in Richmond police lock up. And this guy would lock up an old lady. No question.
Damn. She’d never gotten a parking ticket before. Maybe Mic can fix it. Dottie railed against all of the injustices in the world while she waited for the officer to return.
The officer came back to Dottie’s car and stood outside the window. Dottie grabbed the tickets, frowned at him and gave him her iciest blue-eyed, haughty stare.
“Have a great day,” she snapped as she stabbed at the button to raise her window. He was disgusting. He couldn’t have a girlfriend, a cold fish like him. No way. Dottie waited for him to turn the corner before she left her parking place.