Friday, November 10, 2006

Post election wrap-up or why I wore handcuffs on a Friday afternoon (but not in a good way).


So, today is my last day off before starting Job 2.0 and I decided to use it responsibly (although I really just wanted to read more Harry Potter in bed) by taking care of some domestic chores including, you know, laundry, cleaning the bathroom, painting my toenails, etc. I'm clad in my usual laundry day desperation attire: sports bra from 1999, bikini bottoms, GAP kids fleece pullover, purple cordoroy pants - yes purple, unkempt hair, unmade-up face (ok, that's pretty normal). I'm coming home from the laundrymat when I see my favorite thing in the whole world: flashing lights in my rearview mirror. I pull over (I'm only about 20 feet from my apartment). The cop comes up, blah blah blah, how fast, blah blah blah, license and registration, please. I oblige, of course. I sit in the car thinking things like, what am I going to have for my afternoon snack and what about dinner - maybe pesto?, you know, because I only think about food. It dons on me that he's taking a while. Hmm, I think. Perhaps a nice caprese salad with the pesto. He sidles back up to the car with no ticket. Hmm, I think again. White wine?

"Um, ma'am?" he says. I am appalled. Ma'am? "Did you know you're driving with a suspended license?"

"No," I say. "Why would I be driving if I knew my license were suspended?"

"Well, you're going to have to go down to the station with me."

WHAT? STATION? He proceeds to tell me that a ticket that I (and by I I mean the exboyfriend, fine it was my car that was uninspected, but he coulda told me) almost a YEAR ago and was paid in JULY had mysteriously resulted in my license being suspended as of September. None of this makes any sense to me and I try to rationally protest, but I see I am not going to win. He then tells me he needs to cuff me. Cuff me? No, I think not. My eyes well up and he senses that he's not going to win and says, "Ok, but it's against policy." Yeah, it's against my policy to get fucking arrested for having paid a traffic citation. Holy balls am I pissed. So, he takes me down to the station (about 100 feet fro my apartment, hopefully all the neighbors saw my shame) and then says he does in fact have to cuff me when he takes me in because other officers are present. I say ok, but what I really want to say is, there's a camera in my purse, can you take a picture of this? I resist. While nice, the cop doesn't have the sense of humor I was hoping he'd have.



So, I go inside and am booked. BOOKED! I have to say my weight out loud. I have to take a picture in laundry day desperation attire! Fortunately, I can have a court appearance today, whatever that means. So, I scoot across the street to the courthouse and a nice lady tells me I can see the judge and meet with the DA to go over my charges. Charges? So far I only know of one infraction: dating a one [redacted]. While I wait, the two officers search my purse, find my old school ID and proceed to make fun of me. "For a girl that went to a good school, this is kinda a dumb thing to do, etc." Yeah, real funny and original. Whatev. I laugh in hopes that they will take pity on me and make this thing go away faster. Which they do.

I'm led into a courtroom and am surprised by the informality. People are kinda just milling around. I suppose it's a Friday afternoon and all, but I was expecting some Law & Order action.



The judge mentions that I can clear all of this up today, but the DA jumps up and says, no way, it's a holiday, will have to wait. I almost piss myself thinking that I'm going to be in jail this weekend (then I think, would that be so bad? I mean, I'd have plans for the entire weekend! Pressure's off!), but then he says, you can go, we just need to reschedule. He comes out from behind his sad little desk and sits on the bench with me to tell me that I just need to go get a new license and bring it back, then the whole matter will be dismissed. He doesn't know why it even happened, but I shouldn't have an Oklahoma license anyway (which I concede) now that I permanently live in Mass. (OK. YES. I know this and have known this. You wanna know why I still have it? Brad Henry (D - OK). That's fucking why. I wanted to vote for the Dems in this past election in Oklahoma as opposed to MA where they were sure to win. This is what I get for being a concerned, politically active citizen. Well, fuck you Oklahoma, my absentee ballot didn't even show up in time (ok, I think mail forwarding might have something to do with it, but still, fuck you Oklahoma Elections Board).

But I'm not listening all that well, because I have fallen in love with the DA. However, unless he's into criminals wearing the worst outfit ever, I think it's hopeless.

4 comments:

G said...

Holy schnikees, Batman--it's like a story out of MY life. I'm glad everything's okay.

alabra said...

best story ever...i think you should slip your # to the da when you go to get this dismissed...way to be renegade and waive your right to an attorney - js disapproved.

Matt said...

So when will I get to see a facsimile of the indictment and your mugshot(s) on thesmokinggun.com?

bee-spot said...

never. never.