I cowered in front of the law and somehow I won ...
Gather round, children. I want to tell you a story. Recently, a 20-year-old kid in an extremely large, older SUV rammed into the back of my truck at a stop sign. After an hour of listening to this kid, the cop shows up and hands me a ticket for $232.50 for failure to pay property taxes/having an expired tag. So, in short, I got rear-ended twice that day.
The officer told me if I went to court and showed where I paid to take care of it, the judge may reduce the fine. The key word here, friends, is MAY. He even emphasised it. What follows is a description of my day in court. Things that were thought but were not said are in parenthesis.
Frank's Day in Court
In all honesty, I was nervous. I've never been before the judge before, so I had no idea what to expect. The closest thing I've ever gotten to it was watching the OJ trial and, I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be arguing in front of Judge Ito today. For that matter, I don't think I plan to argue in front of ANY judge today.
I pull up and park. I look over to my right and I notice a vehicle that is strangely familiar. Like I've stood and stared at this vehicle for an extended period of time. I pick up my cell phone and called dad.
"And just what are you doing?"
"You're never going to believe who I parked to."
"Where are you?"
"At the courthouse."
"I dunno, who? Bing?"
(Let it go, dad, let it go)
"No, that kid who rammed into the back of me."
"The kid in the Suburban?"
(No, dad, the kid at the flea market running past me to get the discounted Lionel Ritchie action figure)
"Yes, dad, the kid in the Suburban."
"Just calm down, don't do anything stupid."
"I really want to go in there and hurt him."
"No, don't do that. I don't have enough money to get you out of jail. Just relax, go in and you'll be fine. Try not to talk to him."
Sage-like advice from my father. So, I get out of the rental car I was forced to drive because this schmuck hit me and head inside.
I walk in and there are about 60 people standing around a set of double doors. The too-old-for-the-job security officer motions me to walk through the metal detector. Of course, it beeps. Loudly. For three minutes. Constantly. For a moment, I thought I'd won a prize. Then it dawned on me they don't give out prizes at the courthouse and turned around to the guy. He waves me off. Very nice. I could have actually been packing a gun and I was waved through. Of course, being a guy and thinking to myself "Yeah, that's right I'm not going back through" left me wide open for what was about to happen next.
I walk to the other end of the hall, where there were less people. Out of the hoard of people comes prancing the kid who hit me. He's walking right towards me. Walks right up to me, slaps my left arm like I was his long, lost buddy and proceeds to start talking to me.
"Hey, man. What's going on?"
"Not much." (I want to kill you.)
"I see you came to get your ticket fixed, too, huh?"
"Yeah." (Your neck is tiny. I could squeeze it real good with my hands.)
"Yeah, I talked with the chief of police here and you remember my granddad is a sheriff in Georgia. The chief here offered me a job, but I told him I didn't think I could do it. I'm mowing lawns right now."
"Uh huh." (Emperor Palpatine is standing over my shoulder saying, "Good, good ... feel the power of the dark side")
"Well, it's total shit I got this here ticket. I went back and looked at the site after the wreck and it was totally the DoT's fault for putting that stop sign there."
"How about that?" (I'm actually starting to convince myself that I could plead insanity and get away with it.)
*A SIDE NOTE* The ticket this kid received was "Failure to stop for a stop sign." That's it. From the beginning, he's contested that he did stop before passing the stop sign. As he told the cop the day of the wreck, "What do you mean? I stopped when I hit him."
With that, it's time for Judge Judy. We walk into the courtroom and I start to notice a trend. It's rare that on an occasion like this, I start to feel a tad overdressed, but I did feel so this day. Every demographic was WELL represented. In front of me, a Hispanic man telling his wife and mother that the judge wasn't going to let him off because he didn't understand English. To my left, we have a family from the covershoot of the latest "Inbred Magazine." So yeah, I felt a TAD overdressed in my shirt and tie.
Still, I was a bit nervous. Didn't know what was going to happen. The judge starts to call people up. In order, we have a criminal domestic violence (the wife told the judge that she didn't want to press charges because she loved him), a DUI (wanted a JURY trial for this one), a possession of marijuana, third offense, next to school grounds, etc (didn't know whether to plead innocent or guilty, so he ended up having a bench trial) and a guy who was driving without a license, running a red light, and a slew of other offenses. The guy said losing his license would interfere with his business. The point of all this? Well, let's say after listening to all of this, I was a little less nervous.
Oh, by the way, did I mention that when I sat down in the courtroom, the kid had to sit right next to me? I mean, come on. If I was the one who ran into the back of someone, I wouldn't want to hang around that person. What gives?
Then I heard it. The judge called my name. So, I take my crumpled pieces of paper up front, ignore a call for "good luck" by the kid and took my place at the podium.
"Are you Mr. Frank?"
"I am, your honor." (Oh shit)
"And you're here because of (pause) failure to pay property taxes?"
"Yes, your honor." (Mouth ... dry ... need ... water ....)
"Have you already taken care of the matter?"
"Yes, your honor." (My face can be used to direct planes at this point)
"Do you have the paperwork? Bring it to me."
"Here you go, ma'am."
She still hasn't looked at me at this point. She looks at the paperwork and waits a second or two before saying ...
"Okay, you're free to go."
I didn't know what to do. Did she just drop the WHOLE ticket? Or am I supposed to pay half of it or what?
"Your honor, do I need to carry this to someone or do anything?" (Oh please, tell me to go home)
"No, you're all clear."
With that, I thanked the judge, turned around and started to walk out. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the kid smiling at me and I think he gave me the thumbs up sign. I kept on going. I figured that my reward for not killing this kid was not having to pay $232.50. I drove off, giddy as a school girl.
THE END
Now, run along and play, children. You're starting to bother me.
The officer told me if I went to court and showed where I paid to take care of it, the judge may reduce the fine. The key word here, friends, is MAY. He even emphasised it. What follows is a description of my day in court. Things that were thought but were not said are in parenthesis.
Frank's Day in Court
In all honesty, I was nervous. I've never been before the judge before, so I had no idea what to expect. The closest thing I've ever gotten to it was watching the OJ trial and, I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be arguing in front of Judge Ito today. For that matter, I don't think I plan to argue in front of ANY judge today.
I pull up and park. I look over to my right and I notice a vehicle that is strangely familiar. Like I've stood and stared at this vehicle for an extended period of time. I pick up my cell phone and called dad.
"And just what are you doing?"
"You're never going to believe who I parked to."
"Where are you?"
"At the courthouse."
"I dunno, who? Bing?"
(Let it go, dad, let it go)
"No, that kid who rammed into the back of me."
"The kid in the Suburban?"
(No, dad, the kid at the flea market running past me to get the discounted Lionel Ritchie action figure)
"Yes, dad, the kid in the Suburban."
"Just calm down, don't do anything stupid."
"I really want to go in there and hurt him."
"No, don't do that. I don't have enough money to get you out of jail. Just relax, go in and you'll be fine. Try not to talk to him."
Sage-like advice from my father. So, I get out of the rental car I was forced to drive because this schmuck hit me and head inside.
I walk in and there are about 60 people standing around a set of double doors. The too-old-for-the-job security officer motions me to walk through the metal detector. Of course, it beeps. Loudly. For three minutes. Constantly. For a moment, I thought I'd won a prize. Then it dawned on me they don't give out prizes at the courthouse and turned around to the guy. He waves me off. Very nice. I could have actually been packing a gun and I was waved through. Of course, being a guy and thinking to myself "Yeah, that's right I'm not going back through" left me wide open for what was about to happen next.
I walk to the other end of the hall, where there were less people. Out of the hoard of people comes prancing the kid who hit me. He's walking right towards me. Walks right up to me, slaps my left arm like I was his long, lost buddy and proceeds to start talking to me.
"Hey, man. What's going on?"
"Not much." (I want to kill you.)
"I see you came to get your ticket fixed, too, huh?"
"Yeah." (Your neck is tiny. I could squeeze it real good with my hands.)
"Yeah, I talked with the chief of police here and you remember my granddad is a sheriff in Georgia. The chief here offered me a job, but I told him I didn't think I could do it. I'm mowing lawns right now."
"Uh huh." (Emperor Palpatine is standing over my shoulder saying, "Good, good ... feel the power of the dark side")
"Well, it's total shit I got this here ticket. I went back and looked at the site after the wreck and it was totally the DoT's fault for putting that stop sign there."
"How about that?" (I'm actually starting to convince myself that I could plead insanity and get away with it.)
*A SIDE NOTE* The ticket this kid received was "Failure to stop for a stop sign." That's it. From the beginning, he's contested that he did stop before passing the stop sign. As he told the cop the day of the wreck, "What do you mean? I stopped when I hit him."
With that, it's time for Judge Judy. We walk into the courtroom and I start to notice a trend. It's rare that on an occasion like this, I start to feel a tad overdressed, but I did feel so this day. Every demographic was WELL represented. In front of me, a Hispanic man telling his wife and mother that the judge wasn't going to let him off because he didn't understand English. To my left, we have a family from the covershoot of the latest "Inbred Magazine." So yeah, I felt a TAD overdressed in my shirt and tie.
Still, I was a bit nervous. Didn't know what was going to happen. The judge starts to call people up. In order, we have a criminal domestic violence (the wife told the judge that she didn't want to press charges because she loved him), a DUI (wanted a JURY trial for this one), a possession of marijuana, third offense, next to school grounds, etc (didn't know whether to plead innocent or guilty, so he ended up having a bench trial) and a guy who was driving without a license, running a red light, and a slew of other offenses. The guy said losing his license would interfere with his business. The point of all this? Well, let's say after listening to all of this, I was a little less nervous.
Oh, by the way, did I mention that when I sat down in the courtroom, the kid had to sit right next to me? I mean, come on. If I was the one who ran into the back of someone, I wouldn't want to hang around that person. What gives?
Then I heard it. The judge called my name. So, I take my crumpled pieces of paper up front, ignore a call for "good luck" by the kid and took my place at the podium.
"Are you Mr. Frank?"
"I am, your honor." (Oh shit)
"And you're here because of (pause) failure to pay property taxes?"
"Yes, your honor." (Mouth ... dry ... need ... water ....)
"Have you already taken care of the matter?"
"Yes, your honor." (My face can be used to direct planes at this point)
"Do you have the paperwork? Bring it to me."
"Here you go, ma'am."
She still hasn't looked at me at this point. She looks at the paperwork and waits a second or two before saying ...
"Okay, you're free to go."
I didn't know what to do. Did she just drop the WHOLE ticket? Or am I supposed to pay half of it or what?
"Your honor, do I need to carry this to someone or do anything?" (Oh please, tell me to go home)
"No, you're all clear."
With that, I thanked the judge, turned around and started to walk out. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the kid smiling at me and I think he gave me the thumbs up sign. I kept on going. I figured that my reward for not killing this kid was not having to pay $232.50. I drove off, giddy as a school girl.
THE END
Now, run along and play, children. You're starting to bother me.
posted by King Frank at 3:39 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home