Spartacus shows up the farce of getting a parking ticket on private land
We introduce a guest blog post today which exposes the absolute farce of receiving a parking ticket when parked in a private car park – such as those used for retail parks.
What happens when a company claiming to be policing a car park on behalf of Argos issues one of its speculative invoices to a car driver and finds out they’re dealing with none other than Spartacus.
I AM SPARTACUS!
I am writing to say that I am extremely disappointed that G24 gave me the thumbs up and did not allow me to fight them in the Popla gladiatorial arena. I was soooo looking forward to receiving parchments addressed to Spartacus with the seal of Popla stamped on them.
Instead of rising to my gladiatorial challenge, they simply folded like a cheap toga after I sent my challenge to the not so mighty G24 Ltd., when the owner of the chariot I was driving on the day in question received this (view copy of PCN). I sent this communication (below) via my recently registered “Spartacus Lives” email address.
From: Spartacus Lives
Subject: Re: Contractual Parking Charge Notice Number  issued to [name and address]
Dear G24 Ltd.
Re: Contractual Parking Charge Notice Number  issued to [name and address] Vehicle registration number [AB 12 CDE]
You seem to be under the impression that I entered into some kind of contract to pay you £100 to park in Argos’s car park [address], but I can confirm that I did not enter into any such contract as I did not see any signs either in, or around the car park.
In fact, even if I had seen the signs I could not have entered into any contract with you, because on the day in question I was an ignorant slave who spoke only Latin (with an American accent), and I could neither read nor write.
Fortunately, a crash course in English has enabled me to write to you to explain the situation. The spelling and grammar checking thingamabob on the computer is also a very useful tool (a crash course in computers was also helpful), and I trust my English is now sufficiently improved for you to understand my case for not paying your invoice.
Me and the lads in the slave army (it’s a little project we are working on) reckon that unless you can bring forth the mighty armies of the Roman Empire to force me to pay up or, as is more likely, if you refuse to cancel invoice number 123456789, then perhaps you should issue me with a Popla appeal code.
Please address all future correspondence concerning this matter to: Spartacus, [address]. I look forward to receiving your invoice, appropriately addressed.
Kindly acknowledge safe receipt of this correspondence.
I got some kind of automated response which was an unsigned and unaddressed threat which I Spartacus laughed in the face of. It took two more carrier pigeoned requests for a Popla appeal code before I got this. (view G24′s waiver letter).
Note who it is addressed to.
It is a pity that G24 Ltd. did not want to join me in battle because I was totally confident that I would defeat the jumped up little student clerks in the Popla gladiatorial arena that is overseen by its Governor, Nickerless Caligula Lesterus of London councils.
These ordinary citizens seek to impose an authority on others that simply doesn’t exist. I Spartacus and the rest of the slave army they seek to oppress have never recognised the authority of the mighty Roman Empire, so a wannabe lead adjudicator who is actually nothing more than a lead assessor in a department of law student assessors (Henrius Greenslavius) and who presides over a joke court was never going to present any real challenge to us.
You see, any recommendation from Popla is simply that. It’s a recommendation. A recommendation to pay up or face further action in a court that I Spartacus do in fact recognise as one that can properly hold me to account for my actions as a citizen in the country of Britannia. This is called the County Court and there are many fine citizens sitting on its benches who know and uphold the law.
So even if G24 thought they could wound me in battle in the Popla gladiatorial arena, they would have been faced with a new challenge for which I was fully prepared. Me and the lads in the slave army had planned to go to war with them in the County Court, and it was a war that we were always going to win because I Spartacus together with my slave generals are masters of the ambush. I will explain.
First it must be understood that any citizen of Britannia can use a pseudonym, provided it is not used to further an illegal practice. In my appeal to G24 Ltd. you will see that I Spartacus freely admit to driving the chariot in question. That is where the problems for the parking weasels began.
If G24 Ltd, or indeed any other parking weasel (or as me and the lads call them, raedam mustela), want to demand money with menaces from an honourable citizen, they must either challenge them to prove their identity, or accept it and address all communications to the citizen/slave who has declared themselves the perpetrator of the heinous crime of, for example, parking in an empty Argos car park on a Sunday when the shop is not even open. Challenging someone to prove their identity could prove an extremely costly and time consuming exercise and therefore the raedam mustela was, in my case, forced to communicate with Spartacus.
Obviously G24 recognised that they might have a problem if they were to give Spartacus a Popla appeal code, so they chose to run screaming like a little girl from the gladiatorial arena, despite having been the ones who picked a fight with the mighty Spartacus in the first place.
Despite my disappointment at not being able to face the dishonourable weasels in the arena of their own creation, I have to say that it was indeed a day of great joy and celebration in the Spartacus household when Mrs Spartacus took delivery of a scroll addressed on its face to “Mr SPARTACUS LIVES”.
But let’s take this to its ultimate conclusion. Let us suppose that everyone wrote to the raedam mustela, using the name Spartacus and admitted to driving the chariot in question.
Sooner or later the raedam mustela, would catch on to this and be forced to enter into a dialogue with Spartacus. Eventually they would have to give Spartacus a Popla appeal code. A Popla tribunal would then be convened and will have to communicate with, you guessed it, Spartacus.
Spartacus knows that his appeal on the grounds of not seeing any signs and not being able to read or understand English on the day in question would undoubtedly fail, and that at some point a scroll would drop onto his doormat which confirmed that Popla had sided with the oppressors (Nickerless and a few ne’er do well senators otherwise known as the BPA Ltd.). This scroll would be addressed to, you guessed it, Spartacus.
I Spartacus also know that Popla has no power to order me or any other citizen/slave to do anything at all, ever, and to the eternity that lies within the Elysian Fields. We in the slave army are fully aware that only a court of law can impose any real sanction. And that’s when the fun really begins.
Who will they sue?
The weasels will have recognised the slave/citizen as being Spartacus,. Likewise Popla. Therefore they must sue, yep you guessed it again, Spartacus. I’ll tell you now, Me, Mrs Spartacus and our four children, Spartacus, Spartacus, Spartacus and Spartacus together with our dog, Spartacus, are certainly going to be more than a little confused when that particular writ drops on our doormat.
In any event, this is where the slave army’s ambush plan would come into action. Even if the raedam mustela got a writ of habeas corpus (ooh look, more Latin that is still used in legal circles to this day), Spartacus would simply ask the particular weasel to put evidence in to a proper court of law regarding their genuine pre estimate of loss together with all of the documents they relied on to produce it.
After all, it is a requirement in the ignoble ( raedam mustela will no doubt have to look up the definition of ignoble to find out whether they are being insulted) institution known as the BPA Ltd’s code of practice (ruled over by its Emperor Littleus Dickus, also known as Pat Trickus Troyus, the face that launched a thousand dodgy parking operators) that they have a genuine pre estimate of loss, and so the particular weasel should have no problem producing it, should they?
Having seen the cowards at G24 Ltd. flounce from the field of battle, the slave army have agreed that any attempt by a private parking company to extract denarius from a noble Britannian will be met thus:
I am Spartacus. I live at the same address as the registered keeper. I was driving the chariot on the date in question. Please take me to a court of my peers that I will recognise and abide by. Other than that, please refer to the answer given in the case of Arkell -v- Pressdram.
Yours with the utmost disrespect
Me and the slave hordes will continue to do battle with our oppressors whenever, and wherever we can. I Spartacus, together with the slave army and the blogger hordes will joyously enter battle with the likes of Littleus, Nickerless and Henrius, with a song in our hearts that was written by that well known slave and artisan, Tonius Curticus.
Will you join us?
I AM SPARTACUS!
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