The wind caught the ticket as he was placing it under the wiper and flicked it across the road. Once written and placed, it was no longer his responsibility – but he had not placed it. He ran after it, the wind picking up and whipping his knee length jacket around his legs. The rain was limiting his vision – he could barely open his eyes. He could just spot the ticket fly from the fence to the screen door of one of the dilapidated houses. He raced at it, missed his footing on the broken concrete path and slammed, face first, into the door. Here he lay for several hours before the resident came home and called an ambulance. Initially, there was suspicion that he had been beaten, although his parents doubted this. He was very clumsy and very likable. When he finally awoke, he admitted that it was his fault, and again he was left looking for work.