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Monday, March 19, 2012

Interesting, possibly dispositive, developments in The Curious Case of the Purloined Car--Robert P. Dutcher vs. Laz-y Ass Parking Ltd. and West Hartford Auto Center

On March 5, 2012 I wrote about how my car got towed, wrongfully and illegally, from a parking lot in Hartford where I had parked to go dancing on a Saturday night downtown.  I said I planned to sue to get my money back.  Here's the link to that story:

Here's a potential breakthrough development in that case, which could well make it worthwhile for a class action lawyer specialist to take the case on as big class action on behalf of all car owners who have had their cars towed illegally as I did.

There's a Laz parking lot on the south side of Pearl Street, west of Ann Uccello Street.  I've parked there many times over the years when I've gone to Theaterworks for plays, just east of Ann Uccello Street, also on the south side of Pearl Street.  All the plays I've gone to have been at night.  But I've never been towed to West Hartford and had to pay $113 to West Hartford Auto Center to get my car out of Car Concentration Camp.  Why not?  I've only had an $8 charge ticket put on my car's windshield one time a few weeks ago, after dancing at Pig's Eye on Asylum Street.  Why no tow job?

In the little parking lot there's a metal attendant's booth which is always empty at night.  There are not parking lot attendants to take money, although directly across Pearl Street is a large parking lot which is probably also a Laz lot.  I'll have to check it out.

Anyway, on St. Patrick's Day, after getting out of Up or on the Rocks and PourHouse and having a few slices of pepperoni pizza at Aladdin Pizza just west of PourHouse, I walked back to get my car parked way away across from Bushnell Park.  When I got to Ann Uccello and Pearl I decided to walk over to the little parking lot on the south side of Pearl to see if it is in fact a Laz lot and if so what the signs say about after-hours parking, towing, and the like.  The reason I wondered about that is this.

Several weeks ago, a Hartford cop told me to get out of Hartford and not return that night to either Russian Lady or PourHouse or he was going to arrest me because I had danced across the street from PourHouse to a little cafe/bar on the north side of the street PourHouse is on.  He claimed I was "disorderly" because of this, although he could not explain what the disruption to the peace and good order of the state resulted from my shuffling my feet in a creative way while moving my old bones from the south to the north side of the seat to entertain the people in the cafe/bar across from PourHouse as I had the kids standing outside PourHouse with cigarettes hanging from their lips, lungs filled with tobacco smoke and all its toxins, disordering the cellular structure of their God-given lungs.  If anybody was "disorderly," and in a harmful way, wasn't it the smokers who were being "disorderly" to the natural order of their lung organs and not me for moving my feet in a way which humans, even cops, call "dancing"?

So I agreed because he said he didn't care what happened the next night, only this night.  I got in my car which I parked up on Church Street, north of where the cop and I had words, droved west on Church and turned left at the end of Church, where it joins the road which comes up from Bushnell Park.  I drove slowly past Asylum to see what was happening outside Pig's Eye, since the cop had not told me to stay out of Pig's Eye.  Seeing activity there, I turned left (east) on Pearl and parked in the little parking lot which is the focus of this piece.  As always whenever I had parked there in the past at night to go to Theaterworks or one other time to go dancing, the attendant's booth was empty and there were a few cars parked there.

At the end of the evening at Pig's Eye, I retrieved my car and noticed a little slip of paper on the driver's side windshield.  It was a note from somebody on a printed form which said I owed $8 for parking there.  It did not tell me who I owed the money to or where I should send the money.  If it had, I would have mailed a check for $8 to the parking operator.  I wish I had kept this printed form with the information about my car, its make and model, and license plate, and the $8 charge, as evidence in my case against Laz and West Hartford Auto Center for wrongfully towing my car from the lot at the northeast corner of Church and Ann Uccello Streets.

So on St. Patrick's Day, on the way back to my car, I made a walking detour to the little lot on the south side of Pearl and noticed the unattended parking lot booth had a sign which said that after-hours parkers parked in the lot at their own risk and gave the name of the towing company.  I should have gone back after getting my car and written down the exact wording but I can do that in a day or two.

Here's the rub.  At the little lot on Pearl, they don't seem to tow cars which are parked there.  It's operated by Laz.  They have a similar sign on the unattended parking lot booth.  And when you park there, you either park free or they put a little slip of paper on your windshield saying you owed $8 for the privlige and license to park there.  Why the different treatment of parkers in the two Laz lots?

Here's the importance of the disparate treatment of parkers in the two Laz parking lots.  Laz is treating its customers in different ways in the two parking lots.  In the Pearl Street lot, it tickets with $8 charge slips but does not tow.  In the Church and Ann Street lot, it just tows without ticketing with charge slips.  And it gives people like me, who have first parked in the Pearl Street lot that the worst that will happen to them in the Church and Ann Street lot from parking there at night, after hours, is that we will get a charge slip on our windshields which we'll owe Laz money for, but not get our cars towed to West Hartford and have to pay $113 cash at an ungodly hour of the morning to spring from behind the barbed-wire car concentration camp.

This disparate, misleading, and unfair treatment will, I believe, be dispositive of the case I intend to bring in court against Laz to get my money back for the wrongful, unjust, and now, I believe, illegal towing of my car.
It also may be the lynchpin and key to a class action suit against Laz for all the car owners who have paid untold hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, in towing charges, apart from the aggravation and inconvenience involved, to get their cars back from this Laz-y Kar Kidnapping Kompany.


  1. As usual your ambiguous writing leaves the reader confused about the specific happenings on one of your "Bob vs World" escapades. But this much I did get out our your hodgepodge...that once again you were confronted by an officer of the law and requested to not only leave an otherwise calm and stable establishment, but to leave the entire city (Hartford in this case).

    So let's see, you've been kicked out numerous bars/restaurants, arrested once, threatened to be arrested on several other occasions, and asked to leave the state's capitol and not return. it me or is there a pattern starting to form here?

    Let me guess, everyone else is wrong and Bob is right?

    1. Dear Puzzled Anonymous (March 19, 2012 at 5:38 a.m.),
      The writing is not ambiguous. If it is, where's the ambiguity? I explained exactly why the cop told me he thought I was being disorderly. I don't agree and didn't at the time but when he made it clear that if I didn't leave the city, and not go back to the Russian Lady or the PoorHouse (and I had not even been at the Russian Lady, so maybe the cop has a thought disorder or perceptual handicap; that's one reason I felt sorry for him and didn't want him to have to give me free room and board for the night), he was going to arrest me, I told him I would not go into either of those establishments the rest of the night. I never told him I agreed I would leave the City of Hartford for the night. When I asked him about returning to Russian Lady or PourHouse the next night, he said he only cared about the night in which he and I were interacting.
      As for the pattern, you are right only about this. I do like to push the envelope, which leads to experiences I like to write about. I am a writer, so I like to have interesting and unusual experiences to share with my readers, people just like you who would never DREAM of living it up the way I do my only chance on this earth. I'm sure you live a most exciting and adventurous life but I can't tell if that's the case because you tell me NOTHING about your life. And that's why you're not a writer. Because you don't have the balls to do the stuff I do and write about it, honestly, without worrying about what some chicken-shit conventional person thinks about me and my choices. If I wanted to avoid taking your shit, I'd just not tell the truth about what I choose to get into. But I'm a WRITER, remember, so my stock in trade is HONESTY. That's something which Conventionals like you don't understand but that's why you're living the life you're living and I, mine.
      Now if you think that getting arrested once, and nearly arrested on other occasions shows there's something "wrong" or "unhinged" about me, think again. I know EXACTLY what I'm doing at all times and freely choose to "push the envelope." Now if I were Dr. Martin Luther King getting myself arrested so white people would treat black people with dignity and respect, you would either applaud me if you believed in civil rights and civil disobedience as a means to get there, or you would condemn me because you preferred the racist status quo ante. I am NOT comparing myself to Dr. King. All I am saying is this: the mere fact of getting arrested, or challeging authority, or pushing the envelope, does not a mental breakdown show.
      What is it, exactly, sir, that you have a problem with, with respect to me and my life choices? Why does it bother you so? And why, have you ever wondered, are you so fascinated with me? Now that's the million dollar question you might want to pay attention to. You might even be able to push yourself to gain even 1% of the internal and external freedom I take for myself, freely.
      No, I am not "right" in any sense of the word which you are using. And everyone else (assuming you speak for everyone, which you don't and cannot possibly; if you think you do, you might want to seek mental health treatment, pronto) is not "wrong" in any sense of that term, as far as I'm concerned.
      To paraphrase Clark Gable to Scarlett O'Hara, sir (and please forgive me for putting you imaginatively here in the female role, but you do seem like you're quite a wuss and have no balls, so perhaps you do have a high level of estrogen running through that quivering little body of yours, whoever the freak you are, Mr. Chicken-Shit who won't ID himself--lmfao), "Frankly I don't give a flying fuck what you think of me." And furthermore, sir, what the fuck you gonna do about it, yo'?!

      All best,

      The Writer with the Big Cohones

  2. Disheartened goddessMarch 19, 2012 at 3:19 PM

    I enjoy reading your blog, Bob, and appreciate that you live your life the way you truly want to (so many don't), but I felt compelled to mention I thought you above equating "no balls" and estrogen levels to weakness in your response to that individual.

    1. Dear Disheartened goddess (March 19, 2012 3:19 p.m.),
      I truly appreciate your pointing out a factual inaccuracy in my response to that idiot man. You, Goddess, are absolutely correct to remind me that it is wrong to suggest that all women are weaker than men. Some women are stronger than some men. Some men are stronger than some women. Strength varies with the individual and with the type of strength under consideration.
      I frequently remind people that Medea in Greek mythology retaliated against her two-timing husband Jason by murdering their five children. Judith and Deborah in the Jewish bible (Old Testament) were physically and emotionally very strong people. I frequently tell young women considering law as a career that they'll be able to be powerful trial lawyers because brains, not brawn, are the key to success in the courtroom. The list can go on and on.
      In the case of the idiot to whom I was responding, I suspected it would "get under his skin" to be accused of having a woman's dose of estrogen flowing in his veins more than a man's testicles, with all that those aspersions probably meant to him emotionally and psychologically. Not knowing who he is means I was taking a wild guess that these sorts of words would bother him, but I suspect he is a wuss when it comes to how he lives his own life, so my arrow hopefully hit the mark.
      I am "above" making false statements intentionally and knowingly in what I write. You have pointed out, correctly, that the implication I made, that women are generally weaker then men, especially emotionally, is false and I retract the implication. I also apologize to you and all the Goddesses, whether they read my blog or not, for the inaccuracy. I will try to remember not to make such wildly untrue comments, even in the heat of a "street fist fight" with some idiot slave-boy like the one to whom I was responding when I made the false comparison of him to all people who have more estrogen than testosterone in their systems.
      I don't expect you or the other Goddesses will forgive me, but I do feel the need to acknowledge my error, correct it, and ask for your forgiveness.

      All best,

      The Wrong-Again, but Making Amends and Seeking Forgiveness, Writer

  3. Bob is above nothing. He spews crap out onto his computer and thinks it's creative writing. Whoever he insults in the process is of no matter to him. Of course we don't have read his pathetic attempt at writing but hey, it sure beats the morning comics.

    1. Dear Crappy Comic Anonymous (March 19, 2012 3:47 p.m.),
      I am above you in several respects. I write a blog which has as of today has had over 23,000 page views since I first began writing it in mid-July, 2011. As I've mentioned before, Google keeps these statistics daily for all its blog writers. If you have a comparable readership for your occasional uninteresting, poorly-written sentences, please provide the link to us so we can compare your writing to mine. It would also be most interesting to see how interesting a life you have chosen to live, if your life is interesting and if it is the result of conscious choice rather than slavish adherence to what others deem acceptable, sonny boy.
      Also, I am clear in what I write and, if I am not and the unclarity is pointed out to me, I clarify what is not clear. You use vacuous words like "crap" and "pathetic" to describe my writing, but fail entirely to give those descriptors specific content. Please, boy, try to be a writer and explain what you mean when you accuse me of spewing "crap" out onto my computer and when you call my writing "pathetic." I am not saying you cannot convince me of the rightness of your criticisms, but until you explain your conclusions, I have no idea what in bloody hell you're talking about. We're not talking physics here, just whatever it is, if anything, that's on your childlike mind about my writing.
      That's right, you don't have to read my writing. But you DO. Which tells us something important about you, kiddo. You LOVE my writing. You ENVY my adventures with the Goddesses, the dance club, the forays into stand-up comedy, my confrontations with the police and drunks in bars. You only dream you had the guts to throw yourself into the adventurous situations I do. But you don't. Or, if you do, you don't write about them. Because you can't. Because you lead a conventional, uninteresting life. You have nothing to share with the world about your life, or, if you do, you just don't know how to write about it in a way which will garner you the high level of interest people seem to have about my life and my writing about it.
      Finally, one of the comics in your morning's paper is "Doonesbury" by Gary Trudeau. And one of the greatest back-handed, probably unintended compliments my writing has received is the bare fact that readers, such as you, prefer reading "Bobs blog" to perusing the morning comics, especially "Doonesbury." Thanks, kid.

      All best,

      The Writer whose writing has greater appeal than "Doonesbury"

  4. Girly genes in men actually increase sex driveMarch 20, 2012 at 5:45 AM

    Genes determine the sexual appetite in men.

    Males with an extra girly sex chromosome two (X chromosomes) seemed to have an insatiable appetite for sex, at least in mice. In mammals, gender is determined by sex chromosomes, the X and Y. If you have two X chromosomes, you are a female. If you have one X and one Y, you are a male.

    (Chromosomes are long strings of DNA that hold many genes; humans have 23 pairs of chromosomes, one set inherited from each parent.)

    The study was done in mice, not humans, but the genes that determine sex are similar in mammals, so the results might be applicable, especially in males with Klinefelter’s syndrome, who are genetically XXY.

    “Whether this is a specific phenomenon to mice, or even to this particular inbred background strain of laboratory mice, is still an open question, but we did find similar results in two different genetic models of mice,” study researcher Paul Bonthuis, a graduate student at the University of Virginia, told LiveScience in an email.

    “To know how general the finding is to other mammals one would have to do studies with other mammalian species directly,” he noted.

    The researchers studied two special lines of mice.

    In the first, they were able to separate the effects of the X and Y chromosomes from the mouse’s sexual development (which is dependent on one gene on the Y chromosome). This means that even lab mice with odd numbers of sex chromosomes – for instance males with two X’s or females that have a Y – still developed normally; they had normal genitalia and sexual behaviours for their gender.

    In another genetically engineered mouse model the researchers linked the X and Y chromosome so this pair could be matched up with an X chromosome, resulting in genetically XXY males.

    These two models provided different parts of the puzzle, with the first one revealing developmental differences created by genes on either the X or Y chromosome that aren’t involved in normal development. The second model would reveal how an extra X chromosome affected the male mice.

    Sex hormone levels were normal in all of these special lines of mice.

    When they studied these mice, they found that the males with two X chromosomes (the XXY males) were about twice as fast to ejaculate and ejaculated nearly twice as often than those with only one. They also mounted females more often and during sex showed more pelvic-thrusting motions.

    “We take these findings to mean that not all sex differences in behaviour are due to the differences in the hormone secretions by the ovaries and the testes,” Bonthuis said.

    “Our studies indicate that direct genetic differences between XX and XY individuals … also play a role in causing sex differences in behaviour,” he stated.

    These results indicate that there may be an undiscovered gene on the X chromosome that affects sexual behaviours in mice and perhaps in other mammals, the researchers say.

    “We do not yet know what gene on the X chromosome is causing this effect on behaviour,” Bonthuis said, but only a small percent of genes are expressed on both X chromosomes (some genes are automatically turned off in one X when two X chromosomes are present).

    “It is hard to say for certain what the X factor could be, but we do have some likely candidates,” he asserted.

    Human males with two X chromosomes do exist. They have Klinefelter’s syndrome, which happens about once every 500 to 1,000 male births. Symptoms include infertility and decreased testosterone levels, among others. Many males don’t show symptoms.

    A 1997 report on men with lowered fertility indicated that men with Klinefelter””s reported having sexual intercourse more often than normal XY males. If this holds true, they could be under the influence of the same mysterious X chromosome factor as the mice.

    The study was published online last month in the journal Hormones and Behaviour.

    1. Dear Student of Girly Genes Anonymous (March 20, 2012 5:45 a.m.),
      You are a most intelligent reader of "Bobs blog." You also have a keen scientific interest and faculty and a wonderful sense of humor. Few of your traits are shared by most of the idiots who make Comments on these pages. I suspect men are the biggest idiots. The Commenters I think are Goddesses are generally the most sypmpathetic to the way I choose to live my life. There are exceptions to both "rules," of course.
      I skimmed the fascinating genetic studies you quote and conclude that I do NOT have two X chromosomes because I have never been a quick ejaculator although I do have a strong sexual drive.
      As for the men who make the stupid Comments about me, not recognizing even after all I've taught them their unconscious wishes they don't want to face, I expect most of them do have two X's. I further suspect that their DNA gets expressed in protein development which leaves these men as premature ejaculators. This leaves them feeling even less manly vis a vis my freewheeling lifestyle, especially my sexy dancing with all the young hot Goddesses, getting into confrontations with drunks in bars, and having the balls to get into confrontations with police who wrongfully threaten to arrest me or do arrest me (just that one time in the KKK in New Haven).
      You are a subtle man, and I suspect you are man, not a Goddess. And I love your dry, understated sense of humor. A very informative, and funny, Comment. Thank you very much, sir.

      All best,

      The Single X-rated Writer, all Double x-rated Girly Commenters Pay Cash

    2. I am a goddess!!

    3. Dear Goddess goddess Anonymous (March 20, 2012 8:34 a.m.),
      Well of course you are, darlin' Goddess goddess and I'm just an Old-Style Gentleman who keeps his hands to himself on the dance floors with the Goddesses. But I also am, clearly, on balance, somewhat a sexist. I assumed (when I assume I make an ass of Me and Me, not of you and me, because I don't want to think of a Goddess with you intelligence and dry wit in terms of denigration) that a Mere Mortal Man, not a Goddess of your quality, would be interested in the hard science (pun intended) applicable to my blog. And that is an offensive aspect of my mental equipment, that I make such assumptions.
      I am quite confident, were I to be treated with a photograph of your external corporeal integument, I would immediately conclude you have XX-rated genes, not XY or XXY. I apologize for the error, though it is difficult to determined the probably chromosomal composition of any of my readers from the written word alone which they produce.
      Thank you so much for the clarification and the implied, constructive, criticism you've given me. I do hope you'll write again.

      All best,

      The Sexist Ass(uming) of a Writing, Dancin' Dude

  5. Dear Whacky Bob- I cannot wait for you to finally get what's coming to you. You're going to get yourself in trouble you cannot get out of. They will lock you up in jail and the irony will be you will have to plead insanity, for which there will likely be no objection from the prosecution.

    1. Dear Whacking-Off Anonymous (March 20, 2012 7:20 a.m.),
      Look, little boy Oedipus, you ain't got no chance in hell of getting the police or the crazy house employees to either kill me or lock me up, so you've got a choice. Either get over your fixation on wanting to kill Daddy and fuck Mommy or just do the deeds yourself, as your MUCH better-lookin', better-hung, Greek mythological doppelganger did. Then, at least, you'll go blind, not as you are now from excessive emotional masturbation induced by your extreme obsession with me, but from stabbing yourself in your eyes as Obsessed Oeddy did in the mythic tale.
      I assure you of the following. You're gonna have to wait until Hell itself freezes over for you to realize your Big Dream in Life: that I "finally get what's coming to [me]." If you knew how much stuff I've gotten away with in my 62 years, you would not even be entertaining such thoughts. But you don't. You have NO idea just how street smart and resourceful I am. I make Jacob and Odysseus look like amateurs.
      Please take the couch and tell my readers and I what's really troubling you. You probably don't even know. Well, here's some free therapeutic interpretations which hit your emotional bulls-eye. You are consumed with envy about me, my dancing, and all the other things you wish you had the balls to do in your sordid, sorry, and sad life. There is a cure for you, however. Summon the courage to find a way to change your life in a few small ways. You won't be able to overthrow your present life entirely. But you can improve your life enough to be somewhat more content with it. Stop fantasying about me. Stop dreaming. Stop jerking off. LIVE, son.
      My adult readers and I, sonny boy, would love to tell us what "trouble" you imagine I'm going to get in without being able to get out of it.
      And WHO is going to lock me up, in what JAIL?
      And why would I HAVE to plead insanity? What would be the psychiatric and psychological basis for the insanity defense?
      And WHY would the prosecution not object?


      My adult and emotionally-secure readers await your reply, with great expectation, son.

      All best,

      The Daddy in you Swelled and Fucked-Up Head

    2. LOL @ excessive emotional masturbation induced by your extreme obsession with me

    3. Dear Festish-Noticing Anonymous (March 23, 2012 at 1:22 p.m.),
      That's an excellent point. For those who don't know what you're referring to, here's the paragraph in which I made the the remark you mention:
      "Dear Whacking-Off Anonymous (March 20, 2012 7:20 a.m.),
      Look, little boy Oedipus, you ain't got no chance in hell of getting the police or the crazy house employees to either kill me or lock me up, so you've got a choice. Either get over your fixation on wanting to kill Daddy and fuck Mommy or just do the deeds yourself, as your MUCH better-lookin', better-hung, Greek mythological doppelganger did. Then, at least, you'll go blind, not as you are now from excessive emotional masturbation induced by your extreme obsession with me, but from stabbing yourself in your eyes as Obsessed Oeddy did in the mythic tale."
      I don't know where these words come from, but I think it only fair NOT to take full credit. It must be something like what Plato, following Socrates, called his Daimon. Demon might be a better English translation. The idea, I think, is that when we're being creative, in an important sense we're merely scribes, taking down dictation from some source of inspiration outside ourselves. This is not a modern way of looking at creativity, but not to see it that way I think misses an important aspect of the creative process.

      All best,

      The Demonically-Inspired Writer

  6. A Night in Hartford

    He walks from a night club after a night of the dance,
    Passing a bar and a pub as if in a trance

    Time to go home as he walks down the road
    Disbelief, surprise, his car has been towed.

    Taken away from its unpaid spot,
    A cab he takes to the impounding lot

    A hundred and thirty three dollars they say,
    Is how much he’ll have to hand over and pay?

    In his mind it’s not right, it doesn’t compute,
    “I know!” he shouts “I’ll file a class action lawsuit”

    A policeman, a cop, an officer of the law,
    Please help me he says, injustice I just saw

    The officer thinks he’s all out of whack,
    “Leave town I say, and never come back”

    1. Dear Pedestrian Poet Anonymous (March 21, 2012 6:07 a.m.),
      Cute poem. And I am delighted that you continue to be fascinated, even obsessed, by me and my amazing adventures. Thanks for all the attention. I love it.

      There are a few factual inaccuracies in your understanding of this adventure.

      I was not in a "trance" as I walked back to my car after dancing in the PourHouse.

      It was not an "unpaid" spot. I owed the parking lot owner whatever the charge was for less than two hours of parking in the lot. But instead of seeking payment of a reasonable parking fee, they had my car towed, along with others that night, despite the implication of the signage that after-hours parking was allowed, at the owner's own risk. Towing is not the kind of risk reasonably implied by the signage I'm focusing on here.
      I was surprised by the missing car but not in a state of "disbelief" as yo characterize it in your little poem.
      It was not lawful, in my opinion, for Laz Parking to have the car towed. I've already given my legal analysis about that and will not repeat it here.
      I did not shout anything and did not at that point think about a class action. That analysis took place the next day, as I reflected more about what had happened and how many people this happens to.
      I did not talk to the police officer after the car was towed, but before, on another night. You need to read my posts more carefully.
      The officer did not think I was "out of whack." He objected to my moving across the street in a way which he deemed "disorderly," although he did not, and could not, explain that opinion. I was not disorderly. I did not obstruct traffic and bothered no one, except, for reasons unknown, the police officer, with whom, by the way, I had a very civilized, nice conversation, without any acrimony on either side.
      The officer just requested that I not go to The Russian Lady or PourHouse any more on that night only. He specifically told me he didn't care about any other day in the future. He also did not request me not to go to other dance clubs on the way out of town, so I did.

      All best,

      The Black-Knight for Righting Injustice

    2. I'm confused. You were moving across the street yet he ordered you not to go the The Russian Lady or PourHosue....what's one got to do with the other? Why would walking across the street result in you being asked to not go to those two bars?

    3. Dear Confused Anonymous (March 21, 2012 at 10:34 a.m.),
      Excellent question. Don't feel bad as I, too, was confused for the same reason, asked the cop for clarification, and got none. He just told me if I didn't agree to not go back into the PourHouse and The Russian Lady, where I hadn't even been and wondered why he thought I'd been there, he was going to arrest me and put me in a jail cell overnight. I considered agreeing to go to jail because an arrest under those circumstances would have been wrongful and illegal, entitling me to sue the City of Hartford and the cop for damages under 42 USC sect. 1983 for violation of my right to be free of arrest without probable cause, but life is short and I didn't want to do that that night. He also would have had no legal grounds to have denied me bail of giving a written promise to appear and not holding me a cell overnight, but again he had the physical power, being that he was armed and I didn't want to be charged with the felony of resisting arrest, so I told him I'd make him a once-in-a-lifetime offer: I agreed I would not go back in either club the rest of the night.
      You'd have to ask the cop to explain why walking across the street, even if he thought I was dancing across the street, would lead a REASONABLE police officer to not go to those dance club/bars.
      I didn't memorize his name, sorry.

      All best,

      The Unjustifiably-Stopped Walking Across the Street Dancer/Writer/Comic

  7. Hey Bob, how are you doing with you NCAA Tourney sheet? Who got going to the Final Four?

    1. Dear B'ball Fan Anonymous (March 21, 2012 at 8:34 a.m.),
      Sorry, I don't follow the NCAA Tournament. My wife does, faithfully, every year. My old law firm had an annual NCAA betting pool. You might check with them. I have nothing against people who follow the tournament, but I just don't. Take it easy.

      All best,

      The NCAA Sports Writer-not

    2. I should have figured, you fruitcake.

    3. Dear Weeny Overcompensating One with Doubts About his Own Manhood Anonymous (March 21, 2012, 10:30 a.m.),
      I like to do sports, not watch them on TV. I also don't have a TV. My wife loves to watch sports but not do them.
      Your Comment does say a LOT about you, however. You have serious doubts about your own virility and manhood. Interesting defense mechanism, to try to project them onto me. Nice try.
      Hey, you're such a Manly Man, son, why don't you give me a call on my cell at 860-759-9860, and we'll meet at a Dunkin' Donuts or other coffee shop here in town and you can tell me whatever it is you want to tell me, face to face.
      One last thing. If you're such a big MAN, why don't you identify yourself and stop hiding in the Shadows of Anonymity, behind your Mommy's skirts. Is it because you can't bear to take your own skirt off and let everybody see what you wear when you're writing your Comments to THE FREE MAN WHO AIN'T AT ALL AFRAID TO LIVE THE DREAM? You, girly boy, can only DREAM about doing the stuff I tell you about on this blog. DREAM ON, weeny one.

      All best,

      The One Who is Secure in his Manhood

  8. This guy has a wife? She must be fugly beyond belief. She probably loves him out of the house grinding on girls who getting thrown out of every club in town. Gives her something to distract her from just ending her garbage life.

  9. Dear Angry, Wimpy, and Jealous Anonymous (April 10, 2012 at 11:15 p.m.),

    Only in your wet dreams, son. Hey, it'd be fun to meet a "person" as insubstantial as you, just to observe your behavior and envy disorder. I could even give you some help in figuring out how to make yourself somewhat less miserable than my life makes you feel. Call my cell number, 860-759-9860, and we can set up a mutually-agreeable time for me to help you.

    All best,

    The Man who was Lucky Enough to Marry THE Most Beautiful Woman in the World

  10. She's lucky you have about a decade left before your can't even crawl to the gay bar. Thanks for the number I'll post it up on Craig's list now so the mere mortal men you think off when your in your wife's dry cunt can come to you. Why don't you post your address too while your at it?

    1. Dear Hate-filled Closeted Homosexual Anonymous (April 11, 2012 6:53 a.m.),

      Oh no, my friend, I have more like 4 decades before I won't be able to dance with very attractive young women. I come from a family of long-lived men and women, many of whom were entertainers like me. I'll be dancing on your grave, I'm sure, because all that hate you vomit out on my blog will kill your heart well before I die a peaceful, natural death, in all probability in the arms of many of the women I've danced with over the past months and the coming years. As they age, they will love me even more than they do now. And they will want to reach out and care for an older gentleman like me who has been so proper and full of fun and life in their presences.

      Post whatever you want and live your life as you wish. That's no concern of mine.

      All best,

      The Man Who's Invulnerable to Your Juvenile Attempted Provocations

  11. You're probably right. But I bet you'd get kicked out of the cemetery for your dance moves like everywhere else. But then again your HIV is bound to turn soon so maybe it will be us who laugh at your gaunt corpse. You did tell your wife about your HIV? I bet it will be a comfort for her to know her miserable life is shortened too.

  12. This man needs to end his life. It's so simple to see.

    1. Dear Murderous Anonymous (April 12, 2012 at 6:17 p.m.),

      Dream on, son. Been there, thought about it, rejected it. I now LOVE life.

      All best,

      The Man who Loves Life