[Original: Drabble] "Civic Duty" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Civic Duty
Prompt: writerversechallenge #03 march mini table of doom, prompt #04 ‘metropolitan’
Word Count: 412
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell assist one of Philadelphia’s more affluent citizens.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Civic Duty
It wasn’t that I didn’t like rich people. There were plenty of civic-minded one-percenters who gave money to charities and volunteered their time with worthy causes- including the sweet older couple who gave an endowment to the Police Academy and who danced with every rookie at the Policemen’s Ball- but there were also plenty of self-important jerks who thought that exploiting loopholes to pay as little in taxes as possible still made them the boss of anybody who worked for the city.
Like us cops.
“You there, officer!” called a woman’s voice, as Howell and I rounded a corner on our walking patrol.
“How can we help you, ma’am?” my partner asked, politely.
The woman was tall and thin, with the kind of tan skin that came from a bed and the kind of blonde hair that came from a bottle. Her coat, bag, sunglasses and even her shoes had designer names on them. Normally, I tried not to judge people by their outward appearances, but then she started talking and that pretty much cemented my opinion.
“There is a ticket on my car!” she cried, voice going a little shrill.
“Well, ma’am,” said Howell, still polite, following her manicured finger to the huge black SUV at the curb. “It seems that you’ve parked in front of a fire hydrant.”
“I was only gone for a minute!” she protested. “And my husband is a partner in a major law firm.”
“Be that as it may,” said Howell. “This hydrant is the only one for three city blocks and, as I’m sure you are aware, ma’am, Philadelphia is experiencing a significant dry spell, which increases the chances of accidental fires by over thirty percent, not to mention those set intentionally.”
He smiled- a fake, publicity smile that was kind of creeping me out, knowing him like I did, but which the woman seemed to accept as normal. “The city apologizes for the inconvenience and thanks you for your patience. Parking tickets are under the purview of the Department of Motor Vehicles and can now be paid online. Please enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I-” the woman sounded confused, but started back toward her car. “I will.”
“Wow, sir,” I said. “Just… wow.”
“Jones…”
I was quiet until we had watched the woman drive away, then, “So, can I tell the firefighters that you were paying attention to their safety lecture?”
“Not a chance,” my partner said, and I grinned.
“Yes, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow
Prompt: writerversechallenge #03 march mini table of doom, prompt #04 ‘metropolitan’
Word Count: 412
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell assist one of Philadelphia’s more affluent citizens.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Civic Duty
It wasn’t that I didn’t like rich people. There were plenty of civic-minded one-percenters who gave money to charities and volunteered their time with worthy causes- including the sweet older couple who gave an endowment to the Police Academy and who danced with every rookie at the Policemen’s Ball- but there were also plenty of self-important jerks who thought that exploiting loopholes to pay as little in taxes as possible still made them the boss of anybody who worked for the city.
Like us cops.
“You there, officer!” called a woman’s voice, as Howell and I rounded a corner on our walking patrol.
“How can we help you, ma’am?” my partner asked, politely.
The woman was tall and thin, with the kind of tan skin that came from a bed and the kind of blonde hair that came from a bottle. Her coat, bag, sunglasses and even her shoes had designer names on them. Normally, I tried not to judge people by their outward appearances, but then she started talking and that pretty much cemented my opinion.
“There is a ticket on my car!” she cried, voice going a little shrill.
“Well, ma’am,” said Howell, still polite, following her manicured finger to the huge black SUV at the curb. “It seems that you’ve parked in front of a fire hydrant.”
“I was only gone for a minute!” she protested. “And my husband is a partner in a major law firm.”
“Be that as it may,” said Howell. “This hydrant is the only one for three city blocks and, as I’m sure you are aware, ma’am, Philadelphia is experiencing a significant dry spell, which increases the chances of accidental fires by over thirty percent, not to mention those set intentionally.”
He smiled- a fake, publicity smile that was kind of creeping me out, knowing him like I did, but which the woman seemed to accept as normal. “The city apologizes for the inconvenience and thanks you for your patience. Parking tickets are under the purview of the Department of Motor Vehicles and can now be paid online. Please enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I-” the woman sounded confused, but started back toward her car. “I will.”
“Wow, sir,” I said. “Just… wow.”
“Jones…”
I was quiet until we had watched the woman drive away, then, “So, can I tell the firefighters that you were paying attention to their safety lecture?”
“Not a chance,” my partner said, and I grinned.
“Yes, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow