However, on March 31, I only had a $20 bill available. The most change the ticket machine gives is $5. In fact, the day before I couldn't get either of the machines to take any bills. Furthermore the debit/credit slots have never worked on the machines. I figured it would be OK to ride the trolley the four stops to my work. During the prior week and a half, I had not seen a single transit cop. Additionally, it was Caesar Chavez day, so most public employees had the day off. The ride down was fine. The ride back turned out to be my doom.
I probably jinxed myself by discussing the probabilities of getting a citation on the ride home. I had personally suffered a trolley citation once before (as has my sister). The machine at my stop three years ago similarly was not accepting any bills. So I decided to take the trolley a few stops down to Old Town. Of course I was stopped two stops before Old Town. Those trolley cops don't care what your excuse is, their only job is to write tickets. They say that the judge is the one who listens to the excuses.
So I fought the ticket instead of paying the $118. I took pictures, documenting the machines at the station. I printed the statutes and took them with me. (This was my fourth legal battle by the way - all victories.) Yet when I went to the court, it was an arraignment - that is, you have to either plead guilty or not guilty. After pleading not guilty, the court set up an actual hearing date. On that date some months later I showed up prepared again, only for the officer to not show up and the case to be dismissed. (This actually was fortunate because the judge pro tem was ridiculously good looking and I was rather nervous.) After that experience I told myself I never want to get a trolley citation again.
Yet on March 31, I left work and actually didn't even have time to buy a ticket, as the trolley had just pulled up. Furthermore, I had the exact same change as before. So I boarded and kept an eye out for any sign of trolley cops. After the third stop, I felt relieved that my stop was next. Yet somehow I must have missed the two trolley cops that had boarded my car. I stood there and waited, as the trolley slowed to a painfully slow speed in between the two stops. It was like a movie. Accordingly, as the trolley pulled into my station, one of the officers tapped me on the shoulder and asked for my ticket. Busted.
2 comments:
damn chad you are to trolley tickets like dom toretto is to illegal street racing!
it must be genetic, since i don't even live in sd. i think you are screwed though.
some guy up here got fined for not having a ticket while on the max platform. . . while looking for a machine to buy a ticket. it was on the news and in the paper.
Post a Comment