Saturday, October 08, 2005

The Epic Saga of the Unjust Ticket (Chapter One)

Crap, crap, crap, I say! Crap. Crap. I got a ticket while on my way to Urinetown (a.k.a. Provo) today. Crap. The freeway traffic was moving slower than a drunken snail riding backwards on a turtle riding on a two-toed sloth crawling the wrong direction on a moving sidewalk made of frozen molasses. So I exited and was making some reasonable progress on some rural frontage-type roads. When I got stuck behind someone slow, I would pass them. There was always plenty of space and I always had a single dotted yellow line. No problem, eh? Until I passed a blue pickup. My spirits and jaw dropped in perfect unison as the familiar nausea-inducing whirl of cop lights turned on behind me. Crap.
Crap! He walks up to my window. Now you will recall that I am in a hurry. Wait, I haven't mentioned that yet. Yes well I was in a hurry to meet my sister in Provo to watch a silent movie with a live organ player. It was very cool. Man, that guy (Buster Keaton?) sure can climb building. The best part was when was fencing with that lady who had the umbrella. Hilarious.
Where was I? Oh that's right, getting a ticket. Crap. So he says the usual sickeningly casual things that traffic cops say. "Y'in a hurry?" "Y'know why I pulled y'over today?" "Y'know that I'm a buttface"? Ok, I've never heard that last one said before, but you you get the idea. So I don't remember precisely what his (stupid) reason was for stopping me because I was too busy agreeing with him so that he would just SHUT UP for heaven's sake and let me get on my way. I was sure I would get a stern talking to and nothing more, but instead he acts all friendly and then writes me a ticket. Crap. He doesn't even know how much it will cost.
He drove off and I gathered my dignified composure and I......did.....something.


I cried, alright? Are you happy? I told you. Yeah, so I'm a pansy, so what? Big deal. Like you are real tough. It was a crappy thing that happened at the end of a worse day at the end of an even worse week, all during some of the hardest months of my life. So there.

ANYWAY, moving on and completely forgetting that thing that I just told you about that we shall never mention everevereverever again, the silent movie was awesome and Cate and I met up with my brother and his wife. My brother English had some most encouraging advice. He said that if I
(a)call the phone number on the ticket and set up a court date to appeal, then
(b)wait until the last possible day that I can change the court date, then
(c)change it, so that by the time it arrives it has been like a month and a half, then
(d)show up for my hearing,
the the cop will probably not even care about it and not show up, in which case I get off without having to pay
the cop shows up and can barely remember what happened, and my case is ambiguous enough that I can be found innocent.

And so, the saga begins...


andi-ray said...

my little, TR. you and your crazy encounters with the law...I cant take you anywhere.

T.R. said...

i tell ya there out to get me. dang guvmint.

rebel stripes said...

yes... I know all too well about what you speak of. I sympathize... no, I empathize, being striped and all. I'm a hooligan withouth ever hooliganizing. My beloved stripes have gotten me too close to the law too many times. One time I rolled down the window, turned up the Gershwin I was listening to (hmmm classical... this hooligan can't be all that bad, eh?) and politely asked how the officer was doing "this evening". I think gershwin got me out of that one. It's just one more reason to love gershwin. But all in all, I'm a highway patrolman's best friend. I can only imagine how boring it gets sitting there all day and not one speedy character ever crossing their path. And there I come, in all my black and silvery glory, with "I'm about to break the law... so watch me" in neon (no pun intended) lights attatch to the roof of my car.

So I guess what I'm saying is, you should start listeing to Gershwin. Or, if that doesn't work, just ask me to drive the whole way in front of you. A red subaru is nothing compared to the rebel stripes.

Kathleen said...

I think they are out to get me also! Another thing you could do is tell jokes, my uncle told a joke to a cop that pulled him over once and didn't get a ticket...the joke was that good.

T.R. said...

Thanks, but I tried that once. We still got a ticket.

Hey Stripes, I saw saw your arch enemy today. It was exactly the same as your car but it was white with black stripes. It even said R/T on the back. I thought for a moment that maybe you had left the dark side.

Greedy Kristian said...

Um, you were on your way to Provo to see a silent movie. If you ask me, you were TOTALLY asking for a ticket. You should have just driven to the police station and said to the office "Hand cuff me, I am a menis to society."

But seriously, I feel for you. Do what English says. He is wise beyond his years.

chellbelle said...

that bites!I hopr that everything works out for you! Next time, try crying in front of the cop, I did when I got pulled over! it works! he felt bad as soon as I started so he just said "be careful" and left!