It was the winter of 1985/86. I was in my very first car, a 1972 Dodge Charger that I had bought the previous summer. I kept it parked in a student ramp a couple blocks away from the Pioneer Hall dorm that I lived in at the University of Minnesota campus in Minneapolis. I could not afford the monthly parking fee, so I forged a parking pass out of some sturdy orange construction paper and carefully applied it to the inside of my back left window like all the other cars in the lot. One cold snowy night me, my roommate Mark Smith and my friend Chris Galanos were going to a party so we walked over to the ramp to get in my car and head out.
I was parked on the very top level and we all piled in. I started the car and backed out to begin the long winding journey down to street level. Just as I finished backing up and put it in to ‘drive’, I looked up and saw in my rear-view mirror a cop pulling up behind me. Cops make me nervous on general principle, but I didn’t think they were there to bust me for the fake parking pass so I just proceeded on. As we were slowly winding our way down the seemingly never-ending levels of ramps with the cop right on my ass, I happened to notice a speed-limit sign in there that said ‘5 MPH’. Really? Isn’t that about the speed of a fast walk? I joked to Mark and Chris how wouldn’t it be funny if I got a ticket for speeding in a parking ramp? We laughed, and after awhile we finally made it down to street level.
I put on my left turn signal, started the turn onto Washington Avenue and the instant my car hit the street the cop hits the lights/siren. What?! What did I do?? Were they going to get me for the fake pass? Why wouldn’t they have done that in the ramp? If not that, were they going to see that it was fake when they approached my car with the flashlight? I nervously pulled over to the right and awaited my fate.
An angry female cop cautiously approached my car, flashlight in left hand, right hand resting on her gun. I could tell she was angry because she had this miserable look on her face like she would like nothing better in the world than for me to make a sudden move so she could shoot me. She got to my rolled down window, shined the light in my eyes, Mark’s eyes, Chris’s eyes, back to my eyes, and then started yelling. “Do you know how fast you were going?!” What? Seriously?? I started laughing because she couldn’t possibly be serious. That really pissed her off though. She repeated her question with a pained grimace on her face like she hated me. I couldn’t figure out why she was so mad at me. “No.” I said. “I do not know how fast I was going. Do you? Do you have me on radar or something?”
“No!” she said. “But I know it was faster than 5 mph!” Despite my better judgment I started laughing again and told her that this is ridiculous. I told her I knew that she was behind me and I was purposely going slow for that reason. She stared at me, burning holes into my skull with her eyes, and then told me she was going to have me arrested and take me downtown if I gave her any more excuses. “Do you want that?!” she yelled. I shook my head in amazement, silently gave her my license and she stalked back to her car in a huff. After awhile she came back and handed me a $100 speeding ticket. My jaw dropped and I looked at it in disbelief. Then for good measure, after the shock of that ticket had set in she triumphantly handed me another $19 ticket for ‘Obstructed View’. I had a medical IV hanging from my review mirror. My mom is a nurse and she had an extra IV bag attached to some tubing and I thought it looked cool so I took it and hung it from my mirror. The bag was low though, not obstructing anything so the only thing that was remotely ‘obstructing’ was the thin little plastic tube. $119 this bitch was running me up for. I could not believe it. She pulled away and the three of us just stared at each other. Did that really happen?
I decided I was NOT going to pay for those tickets without a fight, so following the instructions on the back of the ticket I called up the Hennepin County Government Center and made a court date. I was not looking forward to seeing this chick in person again, but I wanted her to have to prove I was speeding. If anything the judge would get a good laugh out of it and at least lower my fine. So about a month later I went down to the courthouse for my court date. I got in line to check in and when I finally got up to the teller she took down my information, frowned, told me to hang on a minute, and then came back about 5 minutes later with a cop. They informed me that they have a warrant out for my arrest because I had missed my court date and they were going to arrest me. What?! I whipped out my pink slip of paper they had mailed me with my court date on it and checked the date to make sure. I was here on the right date and time. What are they talking about?? She took the paper and they stared at it for a minute and then the cop walked away. They had made a mistake and entered the date wrong in the computer. So she made me a new court date, gave me a new pink slip of paper, and I went home.
About a month later I went down to the courthouse for my new court date. I got in line to check in and when I finally got up to the teller she took down my information, frowned, told me to hang on a minute, and then came back about 5 minutes later with a cop. They informed me that they have a warrant out for my arrest because I had missed my court date and they were going to arrest me. What? Again?! I whipped out my pink slip of paper with my court date on it and checked the date to make sure. I was here on the right date and time. How could this be happening again?? She took the paper and they stared at it for a minute and then the cop walked away. They had entered the date wrong in the computer again. So she made me a new court date, gave me a new pink slip of paper, and I went home.
So about a month later I went back to the courthouse, scared now that I was going to be arrested for god knows what. I got in line, and lo and behold there was not a warrant out for my arrest this time. She told me the court room number and I went down the hall to my room and sat down with the 50 or so other people in there. I did not see the lady cop. I was told she would have to be there. Would she come later? I waited for them to call my name. And I waited. And I waited. I was there for 3 or 4 hours and finally there was just me and one other person left. The judge called the other person’s name. Seriously? I was going to be the last one? After the judge finished up with that person he got up and started to walk out of the courtroom. “Wait!” I shouted. “What about me??” I ran up to him and handed him my pink slip of paper. He looked at it for a second and then informed me that I was in the wrong courtroom. “You are in room# 312. You need to be down the hall in room# 317.”
Oh no! Shit! I might actually miss my court date for real this time! I thanked him, grabbed the piece of paper and ran out of the room and down the hall as fast as I could. I ran through the new courtroom door, looked around, and it was almost empty. The judge in this room was just getting up to walk out so I ran up to him, explained that I had been in the wrong room, apologized, and asked if he could do my case now. He sensed my desperation, looked at his watch and nodded for me to go ahead. It was just me and him and he seemed like a nice guy so I told him the whole story…everything from the cop busting me for speeding in a parking ramp, the IV bag, the warrants for my arrest…right up to being in the wrong courtroom. I was encouraged by the fact that he had an amused smile on his face the whole time I was talking. When I finished my story he took the original ticket from me, told me that it was better to be late than never (noting that at least I had showed up whereas the cop had not)…so I won. Yes! All’s well that ends well. The whole ordeal was a monstrous pain in the ass, but at least I didn’t have to pay the $119 and I got the last laugh.
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