Friday, June 15, 2007

Let's See Where This Gets Me...the rest of the story

I know that thousands of you are waiting on the edge of your seats to hear about my interactions with the St. Paul police department concerning a cheap-skate, no fair P.O.C. parking ticket they gave me. My letter is here.

I never sent to the letter as I learned that the one and only way to appeal this ticket was to go to St. Paul beg face to face with a hearing officer. I bet a lot of people just pay their tickets because who has time to dicker?

Well, although I have no extra time for this kind of thing, I have more time than money, so I made the trip downtown to a very nice justice center. This was eat off the floor nice.

I stood in line for 5 minutes. Not bad, but considering I was the ONLY person in line, the customer service could use a little tune up.

I was made to wait, but not too long, until I could speak with the hearing officeer. This guy was stradling retirement and the cementary, but hey, I hope I am still contributing to society when I am his age.

He had me sit down in his office and said, "So, you have a parking ticket and you have something you'd like to say?"

It was not too intimidating. I felt like I had a good case with the shifty switcharoo on the no parking signs and all. I made my case trying to balance logic with being a sympathetic person. I felt like I was making good progress, but then he said, "Well, I hear what you're saying, but I can't say that the polic officer did anything wrong."

What? I thought, why the Hell does someone have to be wrong? I didn't come here to prove anyone wrong. If anyone is wrong it is the sign changers, not the ticket issuers. When he gave me the condescending, "I hear what you're saying..." bit, I figured I was sunk.

I wanted to grab this jacker by the shirt and say, "Now you listen to me. I've parked in the same spot 200 hundred days in a row. I practically own the spot. I know people. I know Jack Bauer. I AM JACK BAUER. Now are you going to waive the damn ticket or is this going to get ugly?"

But the guy being no less than 80 years old and since I am not actually Jack Bauer, I became even more logical and sympathetic. I plead my case further.

He cut a deal with me. $5 and I was free.

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