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In Order to Remove the Boot

The new issue of Otium just launched! Thanks to Sarah and the editors for giving my little story a home. I wrote this one a few years ago, when I started receiving letters from an inmate at the Illinois Department of Corrections. And got loads of parking tickets. And was still young-and-foolish enough to think, Ho-hum, it won't be any big deal if I don't pay my parking tickets! THEY WON'T EVER CATCH ME (insert diabolical laughter).

Comments

dude! awesome!

joaquin and i offer hearty congratulations and now we are going to go read your story....

(have you noticed how much i am overdosing on the word 'dude'. honestly i cannot figure out WTF is the problem but i CANNOT stop saying it. in my head. and aloud. and in writing. all over the f'ing place.)

Carolyn. Dude. Don't worry about it.

Totally awesome story.

Especially because I just spent a good portion of my night last night, rescuing my friend's car from the pound on Lower Wacker Drive. In a snowstorm.

So we go in the little narrow room, and he deals with all the bullshit, blah blah blah, and then he has to go pay the fine, and I walk with him up to the glass partition thingie, and I start gazing at the desk itself because it's covered in graffiti. People carved all sorts of things in it, ranging from "Fuck Chicago" to "Daley = mob".

The emotions that are occurring at these sorts of places- post offices, DMV, pound, police station, hospital, etc- well, I never thought about it before.

Anyway, I just wanted to send my appreciation for this story, as it reached me at just the right time.

i love the ripping. ripping ripping ripping to shredded confetti. i wonder if there are still any boyfriend leftovers i can go home and rip up...

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