Bad Boys.. Bad Boys.. Watcha Gonna Do When They Come For You

“You” meaning “Me”

If you search around this blog, you will find previous posts about the obscene amount of parking tickets I get on Street Sweeping day. That’s because my house is on the point of three intersecting streets and every bloody day is Street Sweeping day and I still.. after three years.. have yet to understand which side gets swept on which day at which times.. especially because apparently, this information is tribal fucking legend with no signs posted for the memory challenged.

On the day the Street Sweeper comes around, the truck is followed by a cop car and if you’re parked where you shouldn’t BE parked, they write you up on a blaze orange envelope and stick it in your windshield.

The cost is 15.00.

I used to pay them as soon as I got them before.. before I was laid off.. before the shop started to tank.. before I somehow became responsible for paying (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed’s criminal fines.

And sometimes I wouldn’t even GET them.. either the wind took them.. or one of the bratty neighborhood kids took them off.. sometimes Chief would take them off and I wouldn’t know about it until I got a summons in the mail.

A few times I put the cash in the blaze orange envelope to be deposited into the special mail box at the courthouse down the street from the store and on the way to Bubba’s school and the Crack Whore’s apartment.. but somehow those little envelopes just never made it in there.

That stopped REAL quick.

So Tuesday, Chief had cut his finger really bad. He couldn’t be around food and since yet another cable/internet tech was due at the house to fix our shit, I told him to just go ahead up to the house and wait for them. It made no sense for him to be at the shop when he couldn’t do anything and it is a very rare day when he isn’t in the store from sun up until well past sun down.

See! That was me being nice.

Anyway.. what I don’t find out until the next morning was not only was the cable guy there, but the constable was there.

To arrest me.

For unpaid Street Sweeping tickets.

In the amount of $228.00.

I had twenty four hours to handle my shit .. well, less by time Chief told me and I freaked out.

I didn’t freak out because the constable was there.. I freaked out because THIS IS NOT ME .. I don’t let shit like this go.. I always paid what I needed to pay when I needed to pay it.

Until I met him.

Did you ever hear of regret breeding contempt?

Yea.

Almost there.

Especially because Chief PROMISED me that he’d have money for me to take up to the courthouse by the end of the day and he didn’t. He had half of it in the store’s bank account and was REAL reluctant to withdraw it for me.. and even though that’s bad enough.. I really saw RED when he said, “.. you’re going to give it to me back, right?”

Lord Jesus how I didn’t murder the man right there.

Instead.. I bitched him out like he’s never been bitched out before and I pulled out every fucking ace from my sleeve regarding how many times I’ve given him money for the store and he’s never given it back to me.

I believe I even though something across the store but in all honesty, I was so white hot angry that I don’t remember.

Because, you see, what I found out about this man over the years is that not only is he not good with money.. but he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he needs. Sound familiar? He’d be the male Crack Whore if it weren’t for the fact that it’s about his “needs” not his “wants”.

That might be a little too harsh but just writing this is getting my blood boiling. So I apologize in advance for sounding pissed off.. especially something that happened a week ago.

The store is behind on the rent .. business has been down.. and my unemployment check can only be stretched so far. I’m not going to NOT pay the house rent because the store has empty shelves. Sorry, not gonna happen.

The last time the electricity got cut, I told him that THAT was never going to happen again.. and either he better call up the electric company and work something out OR get used to living like the olden days because I wasn’t going to borrow money from anybody to take care of a bill that he didn’t take care of because he needed the money for the store.

He is working his ass off to get over the hump .. another deli opened about a block away which is killing business .. even opening up on Sundays again to make extra money.. but he’s just not business savvy. The boy can cook his ass of.. but other then that, he’s virtually useless.

So that whole attitude and OH MY GOD I CAN’T PAY MY FINE BECAUSE I’M PAYING YOUR FUCKING SONS statement didn’t really make for a happy time in the store but you know what? He gave me that check.. I paid the fines and had the warrant lifted.. and now (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed is on his own.. the shop is on it’s own.. it’s either going to sink or swim on it’s own because I’m not putting any of the personal money into it.

Whether he knows it or not.. it’s just the way it’s going to be.

So Guess Who Had A Bench Warrant THIS Time?

Uh-huh.

That’s right.

ME!

In fact… I had TWO bench warrants out for me from the lovely borough where I reside.

What was my devious.. heinous crime? What law did I so blatantly break that this after-sight borough sought to bring me to justice :: and pay $215.00 US Dollars for? ::

Not moving my car on street sweeping day.

Yep.

You read that right.

On street sweeping day, a cop rides along with the street sweeper truck writing out tickets on convenient blaze orange envelopes issuing a $15.oo fine :: $25.oo if you wait more then 10 days to pay it ::

Okay… so you’re asking WHY DON’T YOU JUST PAY THE DAMN THING WHEN YOU GET IT? Right? Heh..well.. that’s the thing. I always INTEND to pay it. After all.. the county court house is only about a block away from the shop… two blocks away from my house.. But it’s kind of like this theory I have that the closer something is.. the least likely it’s going to happen. Kind of like returning library books. When I lived about two miles away from the closest library, I was NEVER late with returning loaners.. but when I moved and the back of the library was RIGHT BEHIND the back of my house? Well.. let’s just say that I owed more money to them then to my mortgage holder.

So basically, the road to my hell is paved in good intentions that come in the form of blaze orange street sweeping fine envelopes!

Back to it..

So apparently, I had gotten this ticket back in December 08.

Oh.. the other thing you may be asking is WHY DON’T YOU JUST NOT PARK WHERE YOU PARK ON STREET SWEEPING DAY?

See.. that’s the other thing.

My house sits on the corner of three intersecting streets. Nice view if you can get it :: right! :: and the street sweeper only sweeps on ONE side of the street on any given day. So Monday’s it this side.. Tuesday’s it’s THAT side.. Wednesday it’s over there.. Thursday’s it’s over here… you get the point.

With all these sides and all these streets and all these days.. it’s a little hard to keep track of. I’m positive they do this on purpose because how ELSE are they going to fund the borough? Sure.. Sure.. I can right it on the calendar or set it up as an appointment on my cell phone but let’s be realistic. We’re talking about me here…

Already.. enough tirade.. I’ll get back to the store now.

So I get this envelope address to me and when I open it, I’m literally like WHAT THE FUCK? A bench warrant? You got to be fucking kidding me.

It says that they’ve tried numerous times to serve the warrant but couldn’t.

Now come on.. as many times as Chief has been in front of the ONE judge in the borough :: either for him or Weed :: you mean to tell me they didn’t know where to find me?

It also says that my name has been entered in their database and that I will be arrested unless I pay the fine within 48 hours. What they don’t tell you is that the 48 hours begins on the day they print it NOT on the day you receive it. So God Forbid if the mail is slow!

Chief comes home from the shop and as soon as he gets in the door, I whip out the paper and say, “.. what’s this?”

He shrugs. “A Bench Warrant”

“I KNOW THIS!” I tell him.. “But it’s for ME! And I don’t even REMEMBER getting a ticket.”

He shrugs again. “So pay it.”

Aaarrgghhh!!! Being with someone who thumbs his nose at authority is used to getting stuff like this in the mail is not as fun as it may sound!! LOL

The next morning :: ironically, street sweeping day on the side of the street that my car was parked on thus garnering me ANOTHER blaze orange envelope! :: I go down to the courthouse.

NOTE: As I was walking IN, the kid that works at Dunkin’ Donuts at night was walking OUT. I asked him what he was doing there and he said that they wrote him up for running a red light when it was yellow. He asks me what I was doing there and I told him I had a bench warrant. YOU? he seemed surprised. Yea.. I said.. for parking tickets. He got hysterical. No more tips for him!

So I go stand in front of the payment window where there is a constable stapling a pile of bench warrants. I can’t see if they’re for street sweeping fines or not. He tells me that the secretary will be right with me and I said “fine” or whatever. About 10 minutes go by and she asks me what I need.. FROM ACROSS THE ROOM.. I hold up the paper and say that I got “this” in the mail and before I could get another word out she says, “.. it’s a bench warrant.”

GOD! I KNOW IT’S A BENCH WARRANT! I don’t think I should have said it with as much attitude as I did being in a room full of constables but oh well.

I tell her I want to pay it.. she takes my debit card.. swipes it and gives me the receipt from the credit card machine. Says thank you and have a nice day.

Wait! I want a receipt. A REAL receipt that I can glue to my car window so that I won’t get picked up by the police the next time I don’t come to a complete stop at a stop sign.

She kind of makes like a face or something but goes back to her desk and asks me for my last name.

I tell her.. making sure to spell it s-l-o-w-l-y.

She punches it into her computer and says, “Oh.. you have another one.”

What?

Another bench warrant she tells me. For a ticket I supposedly got in January 09. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Don’t remember getting THAT one either.

But I tell her I’ll pay it now and get it over with AND I want a receipt for that one to glue to the inside of the OTHER side of the car so I won’t get arrested the next time I get pulled over for not completely stopping at a stop sign.

She prints out the receipt that happens to include a charge by charge detail. I happen to notice that I was being charged $5.oo for POLICE EDUCATION.

Really?

Hmm.

“Um.. excuse me,” I call out to her.. “I have an issue with this charge.”

She walks back over to the payment window and I tell her that considering the police who came to my house thought that the exfoliating beads in a bottle of Bath and Body Works Sweet Pea Body Wash were pot seeds, I think I’m getting ripped off here.

She wasn’t amused. Neither were the constables but sorry. Had to say it.

So armed with my receipts :: which are in the glove compartment of my car :: I am no longer a fugitive of the law.

After going through all this, there are two things that you can count on. One, I will still continue to get street sweeping tickets and two.. I will definitely pay them from now on!!