Justice is not only Blind, but Stupid
-Alex Farr
 
 

    So I'd gotten a ticket from the CHP on the city streets.  I'd looked over what the paperwork said, trying to figure out what exactly I'd been charged with. Improper turn was the official terminology, but when I'd asked the cop at the scene what he was talking about, he'd only scowled at me.

    "But sir..." I'd tried to say, "I made that left turn from the left turn lane."

    He scowled some more, only saying "I saw you make that turn from the right."

    I'd been mulling that over for 3 months, by the time the arraignment came up. I pleaded not guilty, figuring that the fact that he'd gotten my direction of travel wrong would be enough to get me off.  I had a bad feeling though, because no traffic judge ever judges against a cop. I'd never seen it happen before, anyway... and judges don't seem to like me, either.  I seem to rub authority figures the wrong way, and vice versa.

    So then I had another month and a half to mull it over some more before my trial date. My ace in the hole, my witness... I spent some time thinking about it and realized I didn't have the heart to subpoena her. She had to work, like the rest of us... it wouldn't be right. So I just called the number she'd left on the statement she'd signed, which was apparently inadmissable in court. After about a week I was able to get hold of her.  I had a long talk with her, in Spanish, which I luckily speak fluently.  I explained to her how much her appearance in court would help me. I even offered to pay her for her time.  I offered to even pay her more than her usual wage... up to $20 an hour for each hour of her time the court wasted.

    It turned out that she worked in Union City... about an hour's commute from the Oakland courthouse.

    "Fuck" was all I could think. That meant at least 2 hours of pay for her just in commute time, not to mention all the court dicking around time. I was liable to end up paying her even more for her time than the fine would come to. I was fucked.

    She said she'd see what she could do about getting time off work though, and that she'd get back to me.

    2 weeks later I tried to call her back and see what was up.  I left a message with her daughter. I called back another week later and left another message with her daughter, and then yet another with her husband.  The bitch never called me back.

    There's a space on the subpoena form suggesting to a witness that they may be entitled to monies for their time. Not to mention the fact I'd be liable to have to pay a process server to actually hand the subpoena to her, unless I wanted to try to track her down myself...

    "Fuck Fuck Fuck..." I muttered to myself, over many whiskeys after work.

    I was gonna have to rely on the reliability of my own testimony. Versus that of a cop. I was likely fucked. And, I hadn't done anything wrong.

    I started to imagine that maybe I had. Maybe I really was in the wrong, somehow. Maybe the cop had seen an infraction of some law that I wasn't even aware existed... Christ knows the legislature creates enough of the silly fucking things so that cops can pretty much pull over anyone who looks suspicious (usually the brown people), pretty much whenever they feel like it. What was I supposed to do about it though? What could I do?

    So finally the court day comes. I'm there an hour early, not that promptness counts toward a non-cop's credibility.  I sit through a half dozen cases where the officer hasn't bothered to show up... but I know my cop's showed up, because he's already begun the diagram on the white board before any cases are heard. It's there, taunting me... I can't help but stare at it, and wonder what exactly I'm being charged with.  I still haven't figured it out for sure, but I've narrowed it down to two possibilities, both of which his faulty paperwork will prove false.

    The defendant before me manages to argue his way to a dismissal of the charge. He's a probation officer who's thought to wear his badge into the court... and who has a lawsuit pending against the officer who pulled him over.  What a fucking surprise, the judge is willing to listen to the testimony of a man with a badge on.  Maybe I should've gotten a badge at a garage sale somewhere.

    Then my case comes up, and the cop goes up to give testimony. Suddenly, out of the blue, I find out I'm being charged with making some sort of wild illegal U-turn from a bustop! My jaw drops as the cop explains what a menace I am to society, not to mention how audacious I am to have done it right in front of him. Giggles escape my mouth as I nearly go into caniption fits... realizing that his version makes all the inconsistencies I was relying on suddenly seem to make sense.

    Needless to say, the judge takes a dim view of giggling in court. "This is very serious, do you understand me?!" he warns me, fire and brimstone dancing in his eyes. "I promise to behave, sir... I'm sorry..." I mutter, fighting to close my jaw that just keeps wanting to drop. I can't believe what I'm seeing though. It's pure fantasy. It's mind boggling. I was never even on that side of the street... I don't know what he's talking about, or how to even begin defending myself.

    Suddenly I get the bright idea that all I have to do is point out the trip listed contemporaneously on my waybill... which is a legally required document. If I point out that the fare wasn't pissed, and what my route was, then... of course it will show that I hadn't made a stupid U-turn to the wrong address, and then made another illegal U-turn in order to get me back on track... no fare wouldn't be pissed if I'd done that...

    Wrong!  I proved that... only the judge decided he didn't believe my waybill or me.  He found me guilty and fined me $110 for something I didn't do, despite what my legally required and duly filled out waybill said... he decided I was  a scumbag cabbie and that I should pay.

    The son of a bitch. And I'd actually filled the waybill out, for a fare that could not be verified except on my word. And my witness, who would've made short work of the cop's testimony, couldn't even be bothered to call me back and say no.  And, in the end, it wasn't until I was driving home again, having had to take the day off to go to court, that it dawned on me that... had I known what I was being charged with and had a few minutes to think about it, I could've shot plenty of holes in the cop's testimony based on the timing... but I was blindsided, and I was robbed.

    In fact, as I think back... the grand total of monies I've been robbed of by runouts and assorted fuckups not paying me has been in the neighborhood of $150 in the 6 years I've been driving.  This one cop cost me $110, plus 3 days of work dealing with the court system.  All told, I'm better off without the cops... and just dealing with the thugs, pimps, playuhs, and assorted psychopaths myself.

    What the fuck though.  I'll just write it off on my taxes, and maybe cheat a little bit more, and in the end it'll all be even.  The county took my money, and I'll just get it back from the feds, or the state, or someone.  If the courts want to be crooked, well they're not the only ones that can play that game...  fuckers.

 the New Waybills

 there's No Place Like Home...

You gotta be shitting me Alex