Small Town Justice


Tuesday October 4th, 2011 – Downers Grove, IL

I’m in a foul mood. I haven’t been this upset in a while, and I hope it’s a long time until I am again. But I am. I’m going to allow myself 24 hours to stew about it and then I’ll put it behind me and go back to my position as a dung beetle of pushing my ball of poo daily.

I got pulled over in Warrenville, IL of all places on September 5th. I don’t remember the event I was coming from, but I do remember the police officer being what people in these parts call a ‘jagoff’. I’d never heard that term before I moved to Illinois, but he was a hard core example. There was a giant bug up his ass, dwarfed only by the chip on his shoulder.

It was rather late, and I was at an intersection that was under major construction. I had a situation where I was mistakenly in the left turn lane, and it would have caused me to turn off the road I needed to be on. I had no idea how I would have gotten back because it was all ripped up with construction so I made a quick switch and got into the right hand lane.

There were maybe four or five cars at the light and it was no big deal, or so I thought. It apparently was, because I saw the lights from the police car moments later. I could tell by his attitude in the first five seconds that he was going to find something to nail me on, and there was nothing I could do about it. I shut my mouth and let him do what he had to do.

He took my license and was gone an annoyingly long time, and returned with an almost giddy look on his puss, delighted to tell me my plates were suspended due to an emissions violation. Apparently, I needed to get it checked when I renewed my plates, and I hadn’t.

That caused my plates to be suspended, and he wrote me up a ticket which required me to be in court this morning to prove that I had it taken care of. I got it done the next day as soon as the emissions place opened, and I thought it would be over. It was an oversight.

My court appearance was at 8:30am, making for a brutal commute. I left at 6am so as to bypass any potential traffic delays, and there were several. That’s a bad time to have to be anywhere in the Chicago area, and it was megastress for the duration of the 48 mile trip.

When I got to the ‘court room’, it was a VFW hall with a ramshackle setup that was like something out of Green Acres. They brought in chairs and banquet tables and pieced it all together like they were having a party in their basement. I thought it was pretty half ass.

It was even more half ass that the judge ‘cut me a break’ and let me off by paying ‘court costs’ of $175. When he said that I just about wet myself. To make it worse, there would be a $5 surcharge if I paid with a credit card, but not if I paid with cash or check. It was a scam from the word go, and I had no choice but to take out my wallet and get it over with.

Times are hard enough without this kind of chicanery clogging the toilet of justice. This infuriates me, but what else can I do but write about it and get it out of my system? I have better things to do than pacify a zit faced rookie cop in Warrenville, IL with daddy issues.

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