They got Capone on tax evasion, after all.

I called the cops on Chester today.

Yeah, I've wanted to type those words for a long time now, but it's nothing to get excited about. See, technically, I only called the cops on his car.

I returned from break today at 4 p.m. and Chester's Ford Fugly was parked in front of the library. I didn't even notice it, as I'm still tuned to recognizing his old compact pieceashit and not the new lameness. In fact, it was a good five minutes later before the subject of The Patron Who Must Not Be Named even came up among my fellow staff members.

Seems Chester was in yesterday and may actually have tried to speak to a young lady in the children's room. (And by young lady, I mean probably junior in high-school aged.) The alleged incident may or may not have even happened as Mrs. C was the only staff member in the building at the time and she was severely tied up at the desk with patrons and the phone and was hard pressed to get away to witness it. (Damn I hate EFFing Chester!) She thinks, however, that she heard him say something to the girl. He left almost immediately so she didn't even get the chance to go see what he was up to. The girl in question didn't seem at all upset so chances are good that Chester didn't say anything untoward. Still, he's just too creepy.

The whole reason the subject of the Patron Who Must Not Be Named came up at all, though, was due to the fact that the same girl was in the kid's room today and Chester's car was parked out front. Granted, he hadn't put in an appearance in the library itself but had parked there so he could roam the neighborhood and/or foot-cruise the community college across the way.

"How long's his car been out there?" I asked, rushing to a window to confirm its location.

"I'm not sure," Mrs. C said. "I just noticed it."

I grinned.

"You do realize that if his car stays out there for more than a half hour I'm calling the police on it."

Chester, in his infinite wisdom, had parked in one of the half-hour parking spaces. He'd even done a good job of parking, for once, so we couldn't just call the cops right away. Parking in a half hour space is usually a safe thing to do. We rarely call the police on folks parking there and the meter maid rarely has the energy to make it up the hill to check any of those spaces. However, for Chester, I would be willing to make an exception. Mrs. C told me to go for it. I started a timer.

At 4:35, I called the cops. Amazingly, one answered. I told them who I was and that we had a car due for a ticket. I figured they'd rush right down and issue one, but the policeman said the meter maid had already gone home for the day and she was the one they let take care of that sort of thing. He promised they'd send her up tomorrow.

Grrrr. Thanks a lot guys! Just how the hell am I supposed to dole out justice on the wicked when you won't come give the wicked's Fugly a ticket? Why couldn't he have parked half in the street so we could have had him towed?!

Chester's Fugly remained in that space well over an hour. At some point, Mrs. C called me from home to ask a computer question. I hadn't even mentioned calling the cops yet when I spied Chester himself walking along the sidewalk outside.

"Hang on a sec. Someone I don't like is about to come in."

Our eyes met through the glass of the door, then he'd walked out of sight and was presumably about to hit the front steps and the door. He'd picked a fine time for it too; there were loads of kids in, including the girl he'd allegedly talked to yesterday.

A few seconds later, I saw him in the side window walking to his unjustly unticketed Fugly. He got in and drove away.

"False alarm," I told Mrs. C.

Later, just before we were about to close, I noticed the Fugly had returned and was parked a bit further up the hill outside. Chester himself never came into the library, but he was definitely lurking in the area.

Sick bastard!