Two-Bit Jam

I slipped through the gate and walked down the cracked sidewalk to the street corner. A cast-iron parking meter was standing guard by the curb like a rusty one-legged soldier. Someone had jammed a bent copper slug sideways into the coin slot, seizing the rotary handle solid. I planted my boots firmly on the mounting ring, levered a stiff bobby pin I picked up off the asphalt into the track, and worked the internal latch until the slug popped loose with a sharp clink. The dial gear spun free, ticking off three minutes. People will risk an eighty-dollar parking ticket just to save a quarter. Pure genius.