The 3-1-1, Bitches...
We are always complaining about how horrible the driving conditions are here in Los Angeles. Sorry, guys... it's a way of life and you will never be able to change it. Until today.
I was driving down Crescent Heights towards Olympic this morning and a guy started playing chicken with me. I endulged him because, let's be honest, I was in the right and it was pissing him off. He cut me off once, so I called it quits. Only Jokey-Mcjokers wasn't done yet. No. He gets back over into the left lane, flicks me off, speeds ahead, cut me off AGAIN and slams on his breaks. Now I'm pissed. I calmly grab my notepad and paper and proceed to take down the guys info. But who the hell can I call? Think, think, think...
Then it hit me... the non-emergency Los Angeles City phone number, 311. Within moments I was transfered to a very kind woman who listened to my story and took down Mcjokers vitals. It put me at a sort of peace, but I wasn't done yet. I kept following the guy. Lucky for me, an LAPD APB must have been shot out quickly, cause within 5 minutes, he was pulled over and I continued the rest of my drive to work.
Should I have stayed with the copper and turned this guy in? Probably... but let's be honest, Mcjokers was crapping his pants... and late for work.
Scaretactics, Bigfoot!
posted by TTBitches at 1:30 PM
4 Comments:
I feel sorry for the 311 operator, as s/he can now expect to hear from me every time I leave the house.
Cut me off again, asswipes. See what happens!
I, too, shall call the number often. And, I might add, Mike turned me on just a little bit with that story... Is that wrong?
No... it is not wrong. And damn all that tell you it is!
Dialing 311 may qualify you for Hero Status. See Voggy's blog for more details.
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