King of the Clamps

It was a warm and sunny day. A spring day, if you wish. Not the type that you immediately start rummaging through your closet for shorts and skirts, but a pleasant 15 degrees. Just enough to open your window, lean out and catch a ray or two, while watching tourists saunter by.

And with them hunting season has opened.

One major player in the hunting game is the city’s parking management. When the sun shows and the tourists start pouring in, they hop in their nifty white vans. Like true bounty-hunters they roam the streets and canals, routing meter infringers, time offenders and the general parking knave.

Today they made their first catch. A sweet little Opel left by its inconsiderate owner without even so much as a parking tag. He got nabbed, that sweet little thing. Nabbed by the omnipresent Amsterdam parking wardens. The brakes of their van screeched as they came to a halt. By the way they jumped out of the van, you could see they were all ready. They got their Denver boots out and got to work.

Driving by

Their skills must have rusted away during the long winter break as it took them a tailback of eleven cars’ time. Diligence must be their middle name. They stoical ignored the honking, the impatient shouts, the construction workers’ quips and clamped the car. Front and back. Overkill? Hey, this was their first catch of the season, they had to make sure it wouldn’t get away before they could collect their bounty!

Content with their work they drove by one more time to admire the yellow boots on the car. Against traffic, sure, but who cares about that? Rules don’t apply to kings. And they are King of the Clamps!