How did I spend my day of ascension... In jail, wouldn't you? It's a fun place to go. It has pretty white cross bars, a wooden bench for a bed and a nice stainless steel toilet that was ...well...stained.
I had some tickets to take care of, so I took off the morning from work. I figure, I'll go in, pay the fines and go. Well... It seems that since I've had a history of getting these 511 tickets (driving with a suspended license) spanning 10 years, and another history of never appearing in court, they think I have little respect for the law. No... I have little respect for places that can't bill properly.
Last year, I got a ticket for tinted windows. I never paid it. I would have had someone sent me a notice. But my notices go to an address I no longer live at. So the ticket only got paid after finding out my license was suspended yet again when I got a ticket for driving straight and disobeying a "right turn only" sign. The officer on the scene was given my real address, yet wrote the address he copied from an ancient license I keep for ID only.
So I go a few days before to DMV because I was in the area and wanted to get a new license because I physically lost the old one. They say it's suspended and I have to go to the town I got these last 2 tickets from. This is getting confusing, right?
Then I go to the court clerk. She says there's an arrest warrant on me, and paying the fines won't do because I have to see the judge and no fines have been levied. Evidently this little Podunk ritzy town is big on the formality of appearing in court. She says she's going to do me a favour and let me go to return on Monday for court because she sees I tried to make an effort. She also understands that the notice came back and I don't live there.
Now Darklords forbid, you try to call these people on the phone, you get an answering machine. I don't do machines. I like people. It's not even automated. There IS no dial 0 for operator.
So anyway...after wading through 32 cases on the docket and practically falling asleep in the court room, they don't have me listed. They pull my file and I'm the last guy in the room and it's been 2 and a half hours. I got there at 1:30 p.m., court started at 2 and ....well...lemme finish the story.
The judge was about to be a good guy and help me out until... The Assistant DA finds tickets from 10 years ago that are closed an wants to be a prick and bring them up. This guy looks like he bought his suit from K-Mart and his shoes needed retirement a year ago. The judge didn't have these old ticket on his records.
The judge says that it would not be wise to plead guilty to a misdemeanor which is a crime and stays on your record. Oh my. Gee...I may as well become a serial killer now. Then it will be worth it and I can blame society for putting a life of crime into my head. Ok....meanwhile, they're talking to me like a child and I'm STILL not getting it. Why they won't take my money I don't know. They tell me I should return with a lawyer to try and work this out. They tell me unless I produce $750 bail, I'm sitting in a cell in my $300 Oscar De La Renta work suit.
FUCK THAT SHIT!
So they're taking me downstairs, the cops don't understand it well enough...the bailiff acts like a witless dullard and no one has read me any writes yet...probably because I believe I was being detained and not arrested. There were no Miranda rights, no fingerprinting or anything like that. Shall I mention that this isn't the first time I've sat in a police headquarters for this kinda thing? The key is cooperation and joviality. The cops seemed to like me.
Remember how they told you you get ONE phone call? Well now they let you sit in your cell with your cel and call anyone you want because it's not their quarter. My housemate has impeccable timing for calling at the worst moment. Heh. Not her fault though... I had been out of contact waaaaay too long for a quick court appearance. They frisked me (like I would carry dangerous things into a police precinct...then again, this was not a high security village, and the Sergeant is kind enough to ask if I can raise the money for bail from anyone or take it out of the bank. He calms me down and allows me to call the bank to up my daily withdrawal limit then he and another cop drive me to an ATM to get cash.
He also talked the judge into taking $50 less. He called himself the "peoples cop". We like him. That was his birthday present to me.
For formality, Sarge had me brought up in cuffs to stroke the judges ego...but he never saw me anyway...he was in his office. He's sort of a weekend judge. They only have court on Mondays. He's like a lawyer by day. Basically, he judges 4 days a month.
So, the bench warrant was lifted as I, like Michael Jackson, am free on bail.
Has anyone seen Johnny Cochran?
damn man....bad luck
rofl