My Day At Court

Cigarettes are expensive. I'm not talking about the per-pack price (thank god we don't live in New York City), I'm talking about the extra expense that they imposed on me in May. Well, in the cigarettes defense, it was one butt that got me in trouble . . but who's nit-picking. Anyway, on with the story.

It was a Monday night, after dinner with the family (something the wife an I do almost every week) and she had lit up, and I was partaking with intermittent drags from time to time. It comes to the time when the cig is spent and what do we decide to do? Just like every other time we've smoked in the car (up until that point that is) it goes sailing out the window. It must have been not two seconds later that flashing lights and sirens lit up the 210 underpass. Those rat bastard CHP fucks had nabbed us, and they pulled a fast one on me, since they weren't in the typical police cruiser vehicle. No, this guy was on an SUV (very un-environmentally conscious by the way). He moseys on down, and then asks the question every single law enforcement officer asks "Do you know why I pulled you over?" Of course I do you moron! I should have responded with the question "Do you have to rub it in my face?". But, I didn't. I'm not fond of prison rape. Especially when it's my ass on the line. Just then, my wife chimes in like it's fucking Jeopardy "It was the cigarette right! I knew it!" Thanks honey. *sigh*

So, I get the ticket, court date, the whole shebang. I show up to court a month or so later in Pasadena, at the specified time and place. The line is as long as my penis is not. 45 minutes I'm in this crazy long line, and I swear I'm 10 people away from the window when a city employee comes out . . and announces "Our system is currently down folks, we don't know when it will be back up, but you can still go to the window and pay the fine". Ok, no problem. 30 minutes pass, and a different guy comes out (4 people away now) and announces "We're sorry to inform, that our cash register is not working. You have up to five days to come in from the date on your summons to take care of the issue". Fantastic I'm thinking to myself. I wasted close to 2 hours (and $7 in parking) waiting to take care of this . . . and now I have to come back.

So I do, what could I have done. The last thing I want is a bench warrant. I get there extra early, and this time the line is only as long as I would like my schlong to be. Still long, but not incredibly long (I am capable of modesty you know). I get to talking to this guy in line. Typical criminal banter. "What they get you for? The nabbed me for this". He was lucky enough to cross one of those camera'd street lights. The ones that take your picture when you run a red. He had to travel all the way from Palm Springs to Pasadena to take care of the issue. If you're not from around . . . it's a long drive. He gets to the window before me, and has to pay a $361 fine. For running a red. Steep. I get there, check in hand, ready to write off my hard earned money to the City of Pasadena, and the teller looks at my ticket and says "You're a day late". I tell her "I know, your system was down yesterday. I was here ready to take care of it. I'm here now, how much?" She then asks "What time were you here?" Unbelievable. I don't think tougher interrogations are endured by murder suspects. "8:30 AM". Finally she moves on to the resolution. She then informs me, that for tossing a cigarette out the window of my car, I have to see the judge. The guy before me ran a red light and he gets to pay. Now I have to sit in the court room and wait for the judge to sentence me.

Wonderful. I have to be at work in an hour, and now I have this to deal with. Lucky for me, The Sal was also there (check his blog on my link index) for an unrelated offense. Something about driving without insurance. Entrapment I tell you. This is how they treat a veteran. Pfft. Anyway, we're sitting there, for close to 35 minutes, and then this rickety old man of a judge comes out, and starts handing out verdicts. I get called up, "Your Honor" asks me how do I plead, and since I don't want to drag this out, I of course say "Guilty". One Hundred dollars he tells me. "Go to the window, they'll call your name." The Sal goes up next, and he wasn't quite as lucky. His fine was in the $350-400 range. Crazy. We go out, wait for our names to be called, and then take care of business.

Throughout this whole ordeal, I had been stressing a bit since I had only loaded 2 hours worth of coins into the meter (in a 2 hour parking spot) and I did not want to get to my car to see a $35 parking ticket. By the time I get to my car, 2 hours and 15 minutes had transpired and I was, at that point in time, damn sure those Pasadena pricks had ticketed my car already. Lo and behold, my windshield is clear of paper of any sort. Haha! Stuck it to the man.

The moral of the story. Stay out of Pasadena unless you like to just sign over your life savings to an inept local government.