Tonight, as I sat in the Asheville City Council chambers, a police officer tapped me on the shoulder and called me into the hall. I just figured I was getting arrested again. Instead, he asked if mine was the name on a piece of paper and if the vehicle description he had fit my car. I pled guilty to both counts. He said I needed to move my car because the city was going to be paving where I had parked and they were about to tow my car. (No signs were posted, but then, normal people don’t stay downtown for the duration of city council meetings.) When I got home, I found the police had left a message on my answering machine as well. Should I be happy they went to the trouble to find me, or paranoid they can get my underwear size when they run my tag, too?
by Leslee Kulba
Wild West blogger