Tow-Happy Long Beach Department of Errant Automobiles

I was in the apartment, like most days, the later afternoon sauna hadn't happened yet---it was still early and nice inside. I imagined an era with a guy at a sun-bathed chair, a typewriter and a bottle of whiskey within reach.

Out that window above, on that particular morning as I awaited a Skype phone call, I heard somebody pounding on a neighbor's door. "They're taking your car! Get up," pound, pound, "They're taking your car," over and over again in a raspy voice.

I craned my neck and tried to see which apartment. I never found that out, but the car that was being towed was actually parked in the position that's visible in the provided picture. I was imagining a groggy person, stepping out on their porch and lighting that day's first cigarette---and then seeing that the car isn't there anymore. Maybe the long sleep was induced by a long night of boozin', and maybe the person thinks that maybe it got stashed somewhere else.

Fat chance on that though: the car had been in the same spot for five days, a big red '80s-era Camaro.

Damn, I thought. Lame for that person. My coffee was ready and my call happened, and just a pit later, still before noon, I heard someone else out that window. Standing on a second floor balcony not wearing a shirt was a dude, "Nah, man! Shit! I need that car...ahh! Man!"

I looked out a different window and saw the overzealous LB Dept. of Errant Auto Collection snatching up someone else's car. Meanwhile there's been a Volvo parked illegally for a week now: just a single ticket in the window.

In the span of two hours two cars get snatched up and stolen by the cops.

"Shoulda' paid your tickets," the official who'd been blocking the road to make it possible to tow someone on our one-way street was calling up to the guy on the balcony.

Taking their car away sure makes it easier for them to earn money, right? That system fucking works well.