SATIRE: This is parody. Not a real news report.
BROWNSVILLE — Announcing a bold new era in municipal hydration accountability, the City of Brownsville confirmed this week that under its proposed drainage utility fee, residents will be charged monthly for any rain their property fails to personally consume. Officials stressed the $6.25 fee is not a tax — it is a bill for rainfall your driveway looked at and said no.
“Every drop that hits your driveway and chooses to leave is a drop the ditch has to take in,” said city runoff auditor Plácido Losoya, holding up a laminated photo of a concrete slab. “Your driveway is a water customer. A rude one. It receives delivery and refuses to sign for it.”
Under the plan, which replaces the resaca fee the city already bills people for the privilege of living near the old oxbow lakes, businesses will be charged by “impervious cover” — a scientific term meaning surfaces that are waterproof because of moral failure. A paved parking lot could owe more than a house, officials confirmed, because a parking lot is essentially a driveway that gave up on its dreams.
City Unveils Waterproofness Score
At a free community fair scheduled for Wednesday, Oct. 21, residents will line up at folding tables to learn their official Waterproofness Score, a number from one to 5,000 that determines whether they are a humble homeowner or, in the city’s words, “basically a Walmart.”
“I scored a 340 because of my carport,” said one homeowner, who asked to remain absorbent. “My neighbor scored an 80. He has dirt. He lets the rain do what rain wants. They’re calling him a model citizen.”
Officials demonstrated the scoring process by pouring a bottle of water on a section of Boca Chica Boulevard parking lot and watching it sprint directly into a ditch, shaking their heads like disappointed tías. “That water had a home,” murmured one technician. “The lot said no.”
Driveways Unable to Comment
Reached for comment, every driveway in Brownsville remained silent, which the city interpreted as an admission of guilt. One gravel yard issued a statement through its owner claiming it “drinks what it can,” and was rewarded with a provisional $3 rate and a certificate of gratitude.
The city is also exploring an amnesty program where residents can hug their driveways and ask them, one time, nicely, to try absorbing.
“We’re not punishing concrete,” Losoya said. “We’re simply saying: if the rain came to your house and you turned it away, the ditch took it in, and the ditch keeps receipts.”
