I’m driving my friend home after a cheap dinner at Denny’s. We’re almost to her house, but still in the middle of conversation, so she suggests we keep driving. One block later, siren lights swirl in the rearview mirror. Shit. Pull over.
“Are you aware your taillight is out?”
Yes, the last officer who stopped me told me.“Oh, really, it is? I had no idea.”
“License, registration and insurance card, please.”
I pull the mini folder out of the dashboard compartment. Is this it? No. Is this it? Expired. This? Expired.
“You know what, don’t worry about it,” he says, and takes my license and registration back to his squad car, only to return fifteen minutes later with two summons in hand. One for the taillight, one for not having insurance. Excuse me, sir, what exactly does “don’t worry about it” mean to you?
I’m pissed. My poor friend, who listens to me yell. My poor mom, who I call up and scream at her having the audacity to not know the insurance status on a car she never drives.
I get the taillight fixed the next day (as instructed, because I am an obedient lil’ citizen), and obtain a letter and current insurance card from the company. Mail and stamp all documents and……..........…receive a letter for a traffic court date.
The hell? Then why did I have to mail anything? And spend $10 on getting Certified Mail?
Court date: Apr. 26th. Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
Last night. Show up. Judge is friendly. A.D.A. confirms the car is insured and taillight is fixed. She confirms this not by looking at any of the documents I brought with me, but taking me complete at my (honest) word.