I got the text message yesterday.
“They are going to swear out a warrant if we don’t pay the parking ticket today.”
Swear out a warrant? On the Toyota? Does the Toyota get to hear his rights first? I pulled out the registration papers. Yep, in both our names. I call him up.
K: What the hell?
D: You didn’t pay it.
K: First I didn’t pay it because I just assumed I had 30 days. Then I realized that I only had 5 days so I went online to pay it but they don’t have an online option. Then I thought I would wait until the “You’d better pay this” reminder showed up. Who the hell doesn’t have an online payment option? The last check I wrote was to the plumber.
D: I know. I tried to pay it while you were gone. Where’s the checkbook?
K: I could not tell you if my life depended on it. You know where a stamp is?
D: Nope. Well, the reminder says they are going to “swear out a warrant.”
K: On who? Both of us? For what? Not paying a $20 parking ticket?
D: I don’t know who they would arrest.
This reminds me vaguely of the time I got caught exceeding the posted speed limit in Montana while on our cross country trip. The cop very politely informed that I could “pay him now” and be on my way. I thought he was joking. I laughed. He didn’t. I mean my father used to tell stories about following the constable to see the magistrate, but come on. That was the ’60’s. Who has cash now? If I can get an internet connection on my laptop, I’ll pay you your $27 via Paypal and print up a receipt on my handy dandy Canon portable printer? Thank God my husband is Mr. Responsibility and had $27 to keep me out of jail. And the cop was able to buy a round of donuts for his friends 20 minutes later. “The Little Lady was doing 17 over the speed limit. Go on and get yourself some coffee too. WOOHOO!!”
D: I figured you could just run into the police station and pay it after you drop The Boy off at school. It’s right there on the Avenue.
K: No. No, it’s not. That’s the REAL police department. This is the City WITHIN the CITY police department.
D: Where the hell is that?
K: Lord if I know.
It’s right across the street from the train station. The train station where The Husband got the ticket in the first place because he didn’t have his current registration sticker on the truck yet. It was November SECOND. They expired October 31. I believe we affectionately refer to this as “shooting fish in a barrel.”
I decided to go over there and view my options. My friend Dana used to say that when the kids were little, she had visions of calling Protective Services and turning herself in on a Friday night. She figured she might be able to regain her sanity by Monday. I always thought that was very optimistic myself.
It was the littlest building you have ever seen. Remember the jail cell in Capote? I could do two days in that. Assuming I could get an internet connection on my I-Phone….