12 May (Part 1) - Bexley Council are bastards
Last
Friday I gave a disabled lady a lift in my car and parked using her Blue Badge. I was given a PCN
by Bexley Council which was annoying because I passed my driving test first time in July 1963
(when it was much easier) and
it was my first penalty ever. On the other hand there has probably never been a
Council quite as bent as Bexley in those 63 years.
I parked where the grey car is in Photo 1. Enlarge it to see how filthy Bexley’s streets are.
I was on the look out for signs and saw the one in Photo 2, so drove on and
tacked myself behind a line of parked cars further down the road. There were no
yellow lines and I walked up and down the road a little looking for restriction
signs. There were none so I put the Blue Badge on the dashboard and was away for around 30 minutes.
I didn’t see the yellow peril until I got home, it was not in my field of vision
and could have blown away.
On Sunday I returned to the scene to try to work out what had happened. I
surmise that I was supposed to have seen the sign in Photo 3 while negotiating a
roundabout and keeping an eye on the pedestrian crossing ahead which seems unreasonable to me.
For some reason I am not feeling quite as annoyed as I probably should be and
maybe that is that while Bexley Council is comprised of absolute bastards, I can
be one too. In 1967 I bought an umbrella in the Aldershot branch of Marks &
Spencer and in a very short time the frame rusted through.They refused to
replace it and actually asked me if I had used it in the rain! Really they did. Marks &
Spencer has never seen a penny of my money in the intervening 60 years. Must have cost
them an absolute fortune.
Whilst I am unlikely to live to be 140, Bexley Council will suffer similarly. I
think I know enough about Councils to know how to harm them perfectly legally.
Something I have already found especially cathartic is to no longer wash tin
cans and strip off the paper labels and separate them into appropriate bins.
Straight into the one bin complete with any food remnants they go and if it just happens to
go into the wrong bin, tough luck. My arthritis prevents me from bending and retrieving it.
I am amazed at how good this small act of rebellion feels. Maybe everyone who
hates Bexley Council should do the same.
I can be a bastard too, and will be as far as Bexley Council is concerned for
the rest of time. It might be fun.