The Hearing

I have a few pet peeves in my life: political ads, people who drive too slow in the left lane, No Child Left Behind act, taxes, the price of gas....

There is only one thing I hate more than movies based on books that can't follow the source material, and that's 1-800-numbers that require you to speak into the phone in place of pushing numbers. I'm ok with punching numbers. I cannot stand the falsely happy female voice requireing me to talk to it like another human. You're a computer! I don't talk to computers! (Well..... I do sometimes, but that's completely different. I'm usually yelling)

This was totally not what I intended to blog about. Just thought I'd share. (had to call my credit card company today and change my address. FAIL USPS mail forwarding system. Unrelated, but my balance wasn't nearly as terrifying as I thought it was. Huzzah for less debt!)


I had to go to court yesterday. Well, not really. It was an appointment with a Hearing Officer at City Hall regarding parking tickets. But it sounds cooler to say "I had a court date." My third day in the Cities I woke up to discover a parking ticket on my car. Not really a parking ticket, more of a HA! You're Fucked! ticket. My tabs were outdated. Like, 5 months outdated. Said tabs had been purchased back in January when they were due, and were in the glove compartment (don't look at me like that! I was graduating.... I forgot). I immediately put them on the car, to avoid any further confusion. But the $102 ticket did not magically disappear. Damn. So Roomie and I voyaged downtown to City Hall so I could talk to someone about said ticket. Which leads to the appointment I had yesterday.

It was at 8:40 in the morning, which was good. Roomie kept me company while I waited. I fidgeted. She fidgeted. The large black man across the isle fidgeted. The TV in the corner reported death and destruction. It was all very comforting.

The doors at the end of the room slowly groaned open. Screams of the damed could be heard from within, like the Gates of Hell. The guard beckoned, and terrified, I followed. Down long, dark labyrinth tunnels, carved out of the bedrock itself, I was led deep beneath City Hall. In the darkness I was left pondering my fate. Somewhere far above me a voice intoned, "You have sinned."

Which I knew, obviously, and tried to explain. Shadowy figures loomed over me. Judge, jury and executioner, my fate was in their hands. "And the other ticket?" they asked.

Oh shit. Yeah, that one. The one I got for parking too close to the stop sign, which is a complete joke if you ask me. But I was going to pay it anyway, sooner or later. When I had a spare $20.

The shadow judges glared down at me, their voices rumbling in conference. "We can forgive you," they said, "in exchange for YOUR SOUL!"

Ok.... so not really. The hallway was short and white, and there was one dude in a cubie/office mutant, who laughed at me in amazement that I made it five months without getting a tabs citation. But that's Bemidji cops for you. He was kind enough to throw out the tabs ticket, and reduced the other ticket by half. So I walked out of the inquisition escaping a $130 fine for only $14. And I didn't even wear a low cut shirt!

Cheers,
Alette

"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice." -Abraham Lincoln