Thursday, January 15, 2009

Okay, here's an amusing one. Jacob came in to take over for me while I went across the street to Traffic Court. About three months ago, I got pulled over three times within a week for the same light being out. Well, I have an import, so the headlight lamp had to be ordered, and I didn't have time to put it in before the blue lights flashed me in rapid succession. The first ticket I had to pay (70 bucks!), but the second two had mercy and told me if I bring them (the officers) the receipts of having the light fixed, that they would break the tickets down to warnings. After wrestling with the lights for what felt like days, I got it done, and went to the police department on Poplar to be exonerated for my blatant disregard for both the law and the safety of others. The first one was taken care of immediately, but the other officer wasn't in and I was told to show him the proof at traffic court. It seemed more than a little inconvenient, but being the upstanding citizen that I am, I waited and went this morning to save myself another 70 bucks. So I go in and there is a gigantic police officer facilitation passage through a metal detector to get into the court room. I knew instantly that I had made a potentially costly judgment in error. If you know me at all then you probably know that I usually have an unusual amount and variety of things on my person at any given time. On approach, I already have an apologetic look on my face as the officer says, "Please empty any loose items into the container, sir." Most of us probably leave certain items in our pockets when we go through such checkpoints, knowing that they will not set off a metal detector, but a mischievous desire to cause a bit of reciprocal inconvenience crawled over my ears and tugged at the outside corners of my eyebrows. "Oh, wow," I said,`"I should have thought about that before I came," and proceeded to both produce and commentate on the entirety of the possessions in my pockets. They were as follows:
three pens from three different pockets - one of them, my favorite
two lighters, again from two different pockets
a contract from the shop that had given me no end of consternation
the ticket itself and accompanying receipts
two packs of smokes - yes, different pockets
a money clip with mess of lunch receipts
a cigar cutter (it's enclosed, I don't think you could really cut someone with it)
one cherry chapstick (I like the way it smells)
assorted change in two different pockets
sunglasses (only one pair today)
three single keys form three different pockets
and a guitar capo

A line had formed behind me as I relished the moments, then the officer grinned at me and said, "Come on, Mr. Bionic Man - get through the door." I think he enjoyed a minute to be not-so-serious.

I was instructed to go to a table in the back, right corner and sign in, so I did, and was met with the vague disdain reserved for the lawless and the fornicators. I explained the whole situation and was told to report to a small office across the room marked, "Attorney." Whoa, I don't need a lawyer!, I just need to see Officer Headlight, so I can be on my merry. "Oh, Officer Headlight is no longer with the department, so you'll have to come back next week and file as not guilty.

I'll let you know how it works out next week, but it looks like the joke is actually on me for now. ~ Hunt

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