Last month, I got a ticket because my license plates expired. Alert readers will remember that this happened to me last year. I am a slow learner.
When the policeman pulled me over (half a block from my son’s school–it was delightful), my surprised comment was, “Wow, I can’t believe they’re expired already. It doesn’t seem like it’s been that long since I renewed them.”
Yes. Because when you renew them late, that expiration date comes up even faster. And I know it may make you feel helpful to remind me that they mail you a card a couple of months before they expire, but there is something about that little postcard that renders me unable to remember its existence. I cannot explain it.
Here’s the thing. If one has difficulty paying online because the ticket number is illegible, and one puts it aside to call during business hours, and then one forgets all about it. Well. It can end up being stressful.
Because yesterday evening (fifteen minutes after city hall closed) it hit me that my court date for said ticket was TODAY. And then on the helpful information sheet it says, “If you wish to plead guilty and pay the fine, you must do so by the day before your court date. (emphasis theirs)
Now, the rational side of me says that this just means I have to appear before the judge before I pay. The imaginative side of me says that they are going to throw the book at me.
Mrs. Eastin, you were supposed to pay this yesterday. Now you’ve wasted our time. May God have mercy on your soul.
I was home alone when I realized this. By the time my husband got home with the kids I was, um, upset. I told my husband of my forgetfulness. He read the paper. Then we had one of those interesting times in a marriage when we were using the same words but meaning entirely different things.
You see, his response was, “Well, to avoid trouble, I would call this number first thing tomorrow morning.”
Now, his definition of “trouble” is having to sit through a long, boring session of traffic court. My definition of “trouble” is getting hauled off in handcuffs. I may have teared up a little until he figured out how worried I was.
Once he quit laughing, though, he offered incredibly supportive reassurances. Such as: “Well, they probably won’t let us bring the dogs up to the jail to visit you, but maybe we could bring them by when you’re picking up trash by the side of the highway.” And, “You’ve been saying you would like to work out more. I’m sure the chain gang will offer quite a bit of cardio.” That sort of thing.
So today I showed up for traffic court. I was the first one there, and one of the few that actually dressed up. The judge smiled at me. I paid my fine. I am no longer a fugitive from justice.
And let me add that I am SO THANKFUL that I managed to remember this before my court date. Because if I would have thought of this after the date had passed? I might not have survived. It says right on the paper they will issue a warrant for your arrest if you fail to show. But Todd assures me they generally don’t storm your house with the swat team if you forget to pay a fine for a non-moving violation. He’s probably right, but I hope to never find out.
And of course, the irony here is that I’ve written a book on staying organized, but yet I can’t seem to get my act together. It’s a good thing I don’t believe in karma, because then I’d be afraid to do anything. Humility is often best learned through humiliation.
It’s like I always say: Sometimes the punchlines just write themselves.
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