Corruption seems to be the flavor of the season, so I'm dusting out an email from 2002 sent to close friends and publishing it. Again. This time with the traffic police. Now that it's over I don't know whether I should feel triumphant, righteous, sore or plain sad. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. But here is what unfolded this afternoon: I had gone to meet a friend over coffee. Two hours later, I discover my bike missing. When I show my friend where I'd parked it, he points out that it's on the law-abiding side of the "No Parking" board, but outside the (barely visible) line drawn on the street. So off we go to the nearby police station, and sure enough, there's my bike in the parking lot. Traffic cop: "Show me your license and hand over 150 bucks, I'll give you a receipt that you can show to the parking lot attendant (PLA) and drive your vehicle out." Fair enough. But I had forgotten my wallet at home so