ON Saturday I spent an almost enjoyable day helping to boost Steam Mills School funds on a charity stall in Cinderford Triangle. Having spent from 8.30am manning the stall, I borrowed my husband's car and took my children to the pictures. I returned to the Triangle at approximately 2.50pm and parked in the only available space, outside the old wool shop.
There had been a large police presence in the town, which I assumed was for crowd control purposes in case the large number of pensioners and parents amassed to support the Dance through the Dean festival turned nasty and ran amuck.
How wrong I was. They were there in their capacity as traffic wardens – lurking in doorways waiting to pounce – and they had taken an interest in my car!
I was unable to leave the stall, and by the time I'd found someone to cover for me, a WPC had started to write the dreaded ticket.
My crime? Having my front wheels over the line denoting the disabled parking space. I explained why the car was parked there and asked: "If I moved it back six inches would I still get a ticket?"
But no, I was impeding access to the disabled space – preventing anyone else from using it (I might add I drive a Ford, not a double decker bus). I was committing an offence under the Road Traffic Act, for which I must be punished.
I don't dispute that my tyres were illegally parked, but I did resent the high-handed, supercilious attitude of this official of law and order.
I accepted my ticket begrudgingly and asked the woman if now she'd 'copped me fair and square' she'd be crossing the road to deal with the under-aged drinkers and drug addicts who'd congregated in their usual position around the Miner's statue? I was informed "they are too difficult to catch as they are so slippery." Are they coating themselves in Vaseline to avoid capture? How simple and yet apparently so effective!
I took my ticket, moved my car back the 12 inches that had become available, and spent the next 10 minutes back on my stall discussing the ridiculousness of the whole situation, with an army of people who'd witnessed my crime and punishment.
I can't say anyone said "It serves you right," you probably couldn't print what they did say, none of which was very supportive or respectful of our "local" constabulary. Aren't we the law-abiding citizens (and I think I am still one, just!), the ones who should still respect these people?
Throughout the rest of the afternoon several vehicles parked in the same disabled space "without displaying a disabled person's permit," one for over 45 minutes.
The same WPC had walked past this vehicle on at least two separate occasions, so I asked her why she'd not issued a ticket. She "was on different duties, and would not be taking any action." (She was now accompanying the police dog and its handler on a walk about town). How thrilling! How exciting! How consistent!
I was previously unaware that parking offences could only be committed between 2.30 and 3.30pm on Saturday afternoons, because after that time it appears you can park wherever you want.
Obviously my front tyres and I had simply been unlucky.
Perhaps the local police should publish their weekly duty rota, so that we all know where we stand, and only commit our crimes when it's OK to do so, without fear of being caught.
Whilst I must say that the day was highly enjoyable and a huge success, I wonder if I might have been better off donating the price of a parking ticket to school funds and staying at home doing my ironing. My charitable act in giving up my time to help a worthy cause cost me more than I'd bargained for.
Thank you WPC 104, you made my day. – Name and address supplied.