In article
<[email hidden]>,
Werehatrack said:On 22 Jan 2007 18:15:10 -0800, "Ozark Bicycle"
may have said:I can't think of anything stranger than some newb coming on the group,
asking a series of strange, off-the-wall questions regarding long
defunct manufacturers, cheap outdated RDs and five speed freewheels and
then beginning to expose his sad stereotypes and prejudices. YMMV.
Not even much verisimilitude in the tales, either. When I lived in
Florida, the typical asshat who would pull a stunt like the one
described was a pro. There was contact (of a nature calculated to
leave plenty of room for claiming greater injury than was present),
there was careful selection of the target (expensive car driven by
over-50 white female was the usual pattern), and the perp had a
domicile and claimed multiple dependents...and had an attorney on
retainer. Insurance scams were a way of life for a small but
expensive (for the rest of us) fraction of the population.
By comparison, when a loon tried to pull a bump-and-scream on a friend
of mine in a parking lot near here (and yes, she fit the target
profile I mentioned), she just whipped out a pen and paper, wrote down
the guy's tag number, the time, and a basic description of the perp
while she called 911 on her cell phone. What she didn't tell the
moaning perp was that she told 911 dispatch that she was at the scene
of an attempted fraud and assault with a motor vehicle. She knew
there was a security cam pointed directly at her on top of a light
pole 30 feet away. The cops showed up, they looked things over, one
of them went inside and reviewed the tape (which was collected as
evidence) while the paramedics examined the "victim", and the cops
decided that the gal was right. The perp, instead of getting a free
ride to the hospital, would up with a much less satisfying ride to the
county lockup. Last I heard, he was trying to plea bargain, and the
DA wasn't having any.
There are a lot of things I don't like about living in Houston, but
sometimes it rises above the muck...and by comparison to Miami, it's
damn close to perfect.
We put with some stuff because the only alternative is
poor use of our time. Sometimes the clouds part, the
sun shines, and the almighty smites the godless
malefactor.
One fine day I was taking a freeway ramp from one
freeway to another, a right 90 degree ramp that had a
badly designed two lanes in, one lane out
configuration. In the middle where there was less than
1 1/2 lanes a candidate for compost roars in front of
me, forcing me to swerve and brake. On my way again a
highway patrol officer rides up next to me and waves me
over. I comply, wait, and a couple minutes later he
comes back to me. He says good day, apologizes at
length for the candidate's act, again wishes me a good
day, and sends me on my way. Up the road the malefactor
is getting a citation.
--
Michael Press
