I went to traffic court last week to fight a $189 speeding ticket I received right before Thanksgiving. Last fall, a grumpy ladycop looked into the backseat of my car, saw my two innocent children and still handed me the ticket for speeding in a school zone. She didn’t say, “Hey, I see you have kids, that might be why you are in this school zone and hey, you were only going three miles faster than the limit, so I’ll let you go! Also! Your hair is so shiny! What do you use to condition it, sister friend?” Instead, she slipped a thin carbon copy of the $$$ I had to pay the city and she RUINED THANKSGIVING. Not really. I just ate more to soothe the pain.
The whole ticket contesting process was fast. The judge called me into her office and I sat in front of her desk while she pecked at her keyboard. She asked how my driving record was and I scoured the dark recesses of my brain for a BIG WORD that would distinguish me from the other people outside, those who might not have watched as much Jeopardy as I have. Their records of traffic skulduggery outweighing any of my petty crimes.
“Pristine.” I answered. “My driving record is pristine.” That’s a big word! Much better than stopping my tobacco chewing long enough to spit into a Fanta Orange can and slur out a, “Gooooood. Durrrrr,” before asking if I can cash out-of-state lottery tickets in Washington because I figure since she’s a judge and all, her answer would be official!
I was planning on what I would do if the judge wasn’t going to negotiate on dismissing the ticket or whatever magic they perform and how would I know what happens? It was my first ticket I ever received. If it didn’t seem like it was going to be in my favor, I was prepared to pull out some moves, like breaking out in a dance number, singing Black Eyed Peas’ “CAN YOU MEET ME HALFWAY?”
I didn’t have to pinch myself and think of my dwindling bank account so I could start crying and pleading for her to think of the babies! THE BAYYY-BEES. She said because it was in a school zone that it couldn’t be reduced, but I could pay $122 and the case would remain open for a year. As long as I didn’t get another ticket in that time. I left her office, paid my fine and hopped back onto my main mode of transportation: the bus.