Alias

There is a warrant out for my arrest.

I am so not kidding.

I received in the mail yesterday my "last notice before arrest."

What is my alleged offense?

Marrying a man who exceeded the parking meter limit in a car registered in my name. Shouldn't HIS name be on the warrant?

I told "Timmy Tickets," (AKA my husband) to deal with this matter immediately before I'm pulled over, handcuffed in front of my baby, and thrown into the back of a police car. I mean, seriously, i could wind up in the slammer.

To avoid this outcome, I am contemplating reviving one of my many aliases which I have acquired over the years.

Some viable options are:

1. Baby Boots - This was my "handle" or code name when my family had a CB radio in the late '70s. Every December, my parents, AKA Mr. Sunshine and Foxy Mama, would take my sister and I out of school for 2 weeks, promising our teachers that we would get an "educational experience" on our vacation. Oh yes, we got an education. While talking to truckers over the CB radio on our way down I-95 to Miami, we learned about "lot lizards" (hookers) and "latrine lips" (truckers with dirty mouths).

2. Stace Face - When I was a toddler, my mom's best friend from high school used to shriek this nickname for me at the top of her lungs when she'd see me, terrifying me, even though she was just 4 foot 11, even in her trademark 3 inch red spiked heels. I was so scared of her that I once cannonballed into her swimming pool before I knew how to swim, just to escape her hugs.

3. Mother Fish - When I was around 6 years old, this nickname used to make me so upset that I would tattle to my mom ever time my sister uttered the words, "You wish, Mother Fish!' My mom insisted that my sister stopped using such offensive taunts. My sister creatively changed it up to, "You wish, Potato Knish!"

4. Electric Rollerhead - Can you imagine an arrest warrant out for "Electric Rollerhead," parking meter limit violator, menace to society?

5. Fernanda Barrosa - My phenomenal fake ID that my sister's college roommate slipped to me when I was sixteen. The girl in the photo had black curly hair, bright blue eyes, and was a whopping 26 years old (the oldest possible age I could have ever imagined). It was PERFECT. Until I got busted with it in a bar at Cornell...and then again, at Dave and Busters in Philly. "No hablo Englais" did not work twice.

6. Brown Bear - This was my pregnant alias, according to my husband, who claimed that I was in hibernation the entire first trimester. I would sleep for approximately 15 hours a night and then wake up saying, "Well, I'm awake now...."

7. Wonder Woman - Just let the cops try to stop me once I put on my tiny wonder woman costume, cape and all, and run around outside in a season far from Halloween, which I have been known to do for the amusement of others.

8. Two Pound Ninety - This was my alias while I lived abroad in London for a semester in 1996. I used to scream this out in my best Cockney accent when my two roommates would call out "roll call." "4 pound 30" and '6 pound 70" were their aliases. Must have been the hash.

9. Senator Heenan - Very distinguished moniker given to me by my favorite law school professor every time he would call on me to inquire about mens rea. The LMPD wouldn't mess with a senator, would they?

10. Old Lady Jenkins - "But officer, you must be mistaken! Old Lady Jenkins is a law-abiding, early to bed, early to rise, model citizen. She would never be anything less than ultra vigilant about a parking meter expiration. You must be looking for Old MAN Jenkins, my husband, bad ass bandit to meter maids near and far. Yes, he's the outlaw who swore he would pay the minor violation months ago. He's a clever one, Officer, you need to know. He sometimes goes by the alias, Simcha, the name of our rabbi's husband, which he pronounces like "Simka" from the Lion King (because he's still working on his Hebrew "chah" sound). Officer, he's still getting speeding tickets in the mail from Rome from our honeymoon TWO and half years ago. Need I say more? He's your man!"

Here's hoping one of my aliases will work or that my baaaaaaad husband will resolve this matter asap. My next blog entry may be a letter from jail, much like MLK's Letter from Birmingham Jail. I'm sure the other inmates will come up with all kinds of new names for me behind bars. Wish me luck.