Tinytown Traffic Ticket

A couple of months ago I was pulled over for the first time (I know, I’m such a sheltered kid) and was cited for the despicable crime of having a non-functioning taillight. To be fair, I did know that something in the taillight assembly was a bit cocked, and I was putting off fixing the problem because of, well, laziness, and the fact that Volvo parts are expensive. What I didn’t expect was to be pulled over by a kid I’ve known since middle school, who now looks like your average 12 year old police officer. The conversation went something like this:

Officer Middle School: “Can I see your license and regist… oh, hi!”
Retaxis: “Holy crap! You’re a cop?”
Officer MS: “I get that a lot.”

It was, to be honest, a little surreal. A kid who probably gets carded at R-rated movies, wearing a Glock 17 and chunky Kevlar vest, and giving me a $50 ticket.

In any case, going to see the DA during his office hours was educational. The cops running security for the building were genuinely helpful, sending me off with a “third floor, turn right, second office down the corridor. Hope you get the ticket dismissed!” That was a touch that I didn’t expect. Even on duty, cops are human.

I had to wait in line for a half hour, behind a frat brother holding a noise violation, and a lawyer for three others who had received the same citation. See, a few months ago the Tinytown city council decided that they wanted to start enforcing the city noise ordinances for everybody, instead of letting the Ivy Leaguers have their fun and only getting involved for the more serious transgressions. As a result, the city and college police forces have been writing tickets by the hundreds, thoroughly clogging the city court system. This, of course, is a pain in the ass for everyone else, and it generates a ton of revenue.

Going before a judge, as I learned from the lawyer with whom I chatted, would invariably net you the maximum fine, which is $500 for a first offense and $750 for a second. That’s rent money by college kid standards. Going to the DA or the Assistant DA will probably get you down to the $200 to $350 range, unless the officer who wrote you the ticket says something nice. That will get you the minimum $100 fine.

The officers who show up at parties and write the piss-ant tickets have to write reports on everything that happened during the incident, which gets files into the city database and is accessible by the DA staff. The cops have to write up a narrative of the incident, including all sorts of minor details about the people at the party and their behavior. So here’s where the advice comes in:

If a cop shows up on your doorstep with a noise complaint, be very nice to him. Tell everyone to shut up, and keep the belligerent drunks away from the guys in uniform. Then cooperate, which means following the cops’ directions as if you were sober and in a good mood.

That’s it.

Can you figure out why this works? Because virtually every time the police show up, somebody does something stupid. Either somebody starts making fun of them, or somebody pees on the cruiser, or your stumpy wrestling buddy you call “Bucket” decides that he’s going to fight that sonofabitchholdmybeer. So, when you walk out onto the porch to meet them (you do know better than to invite them inside, right?) and nobody loses their head, the cops put that into the report.

No matter how you cut it, ten minutes of being civil to a pair of cops will save you $200 to $500. You know it’s a BS citation, and so do they.

That’s my legal advice for the day.

Oh, and the Tinytown ADA is a man who takes himself entirely too seriously. I had college professors like that, and it drove me nuts. The DA, on the other hand, is an actually living human with a working brain and heart. Seriously. Talk to him if you can.




In case you were wondering, the ticket was dismissed by the DA. I’m going to have a celebratory drink.