Monday, August 08, 2005

Yeahso. I get this car. And, it's nice. It is. But, you see, I was really shopping for reliability and safety.

And within a certain price range.

And, sure as shit, THIS lands in my hands. (At a nominal fee.)

But the deal is: the car freaks me out. It's like this OMINOUS PRESENCE all the damn time.

It constantly tells me this shit or "washer fluid low," or "release parking break" kind of shit. And there's this bell sound along with the dumb flashing demands. And also, these demands can stretch out the the farthest spectrum of my car's needs, such as
...these are the messages I have nightmares over...

You see...any fucking problem I encounter with this car is going to set me back zillions of dollars.

(That's if I decide to keep it, and not shove it off some nearby cliff.)

It's insured.

And I'll buy witnesses if I have to.

And so now I'm not some low life pedestrian. Nor am I some low life mass-transit user.

No. Now I get challenged at every intersection by every make and model of HONDA to race.

And those Honda people think they're the shit. Okay. Honda. Uh...I'm just not feelin your badassness.

So...I flip it into race mode and hit the pedal. It sounds great and employs immediate g-forces...and...way back there is the Honda. It's boring after one or two times. (a day.)

And so then. I'm like going to Safeway...the store with freaks and idiots...(read prior posts)...and I'm coming up to the goddamn RED LIGHT VIOLATION intersection.

$371 PER the part of the sign that concerns me.

And this particular intersection actually has cameras...unlike the many others dumb non-camera/sign posted intersections that litter my little town.

So's a stale green...and I'm doin like 40...and I figure I will go through...(no slowing down, that is)...and then it becomes stale yellow...and I'm thinking, "It's a right one needs to stop to turn they?" And just then I see some goddamn cones on the side of the road where they've been doing road work...and the cones threw off my timing and edge of taking the right on the stale yellow.


(Of course, I have I didn't really lock em up. Annoying. But safe. Uh huh.) I came to a complete cessation of movement on this stale fucking yellow...I apparently just d-r-i-f-t-e-d- - - over the crosswalk line.

And before you could say one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two...I am instantly hit with the FLASH of the camera!

OH, YOU HAVE GOT TO FUCKING BE KIDDING ME?!? I'm like STOPPED you dumb fucker. And now the opposing traffic is moving. And I have been sitting here STOPPED for at least 2 seconds and you take a fucking picture of ME? (I'm talking to the camera. Didn't even care if others saw.)

Realizing the severity of the situation, and futility of yelling at the camera, I found myself on pissed off/panic mode. I wanted to find the nearest cop and explain my whole situation so he would know that I wasn't some egregious law breaker.

I theorize, egregious law breakers don't hunt down cops to explain their activity...only the seriously innocent/misunderstood/responsible types do.

And, perhaps, he would put in a good word for me to his sadistic friends who take and process the photos. "It was a freak mistake," I would say, "It may look like I broke the law...but I didn't. That's why I'm coming to you, mister Cop-man. Let's just save everyone the time and hassle and go get my picture from your pals together, k?"

But, no. No cops in sight. And I tend to not like time spent with any authority figures, anyhow.

I'm certain my hate-The-Man vibe would be an influence...and things may go sideways on me.

(They can arrest your shit just for grins and giggles, you know. No reason necessarily needed...just thinking you might be doing something that might be illegal, or looking like someone who might be connected with someone they might be looking's called Probable Cause...and they do this shit like randomly...and often.) Remember, there is a vast difference between being "charged," with a crime, and being "convicted," of a crime. "Charges," they drop all the time. "Convictions," nnnnnnot really. Beyond is a cop's job to arrest folks. They need to arrest folks. Quota and all. "Keeping the peace," alone won't get you extra funding from the State or Feds. And heaven help you if it's a District Attorney's election year. But anyhow...

Makes me want to break out into a solo of "God Bless America..."

Nonetheless...I remain safe and not-yet-found-guilty-by-a-jury-of-my-peers in my car.

And then my car actually began to mock me. It was like, "Well, if you wouldn't drive like such a dumbshit we could have made it." And I began to resent my car.

Oh, that's nothing new. I began to resent my car the moment the fucking DMV wanted $1300 more than I planned to pay them in March. Sales tax. (They're a whole separate Fascist Regime...) And the hits just keep on playing.

Bottom line, with this damned Red Light Violation...15 days.

They have 15 days to mail you your shit. The photo...the citation...the invite to court and/or jail. And I was having all forms of anxiety.


However, the law states that if you enter the intersection (over the crosswalk lines) when the light has turned have committed a violation...whether you proceed or otherwise. Entering on the red is the crux.

I tripped out loud each day of my 15-calendar-day wait.

A friend actually wrote on my white board at home "Oh Goddd! She's telling her Red-Light-Story-Again!!!" while I was telling my story on the phone...which I found later that day as I was typing up an email of my Red Light Story to another friend...

The mail man became the evil messenger whom I dreaded. I was THRILLED to see my mailbox filled with just bills.

And day 15 came and went.

No citation.

No photo.

No fine.

And a trepidatious sigh of semi-relief...wondering if it still might come and I will have to clog the fucking courthouse with all my random filings and appeals.

(It would become my life focus. And I would enjoy a good knock down/drag out before I part with $400 bucks...and then some...that's for damn sure.)'s been a month or so now...and I'm over it, I think.

A friend was telling me of her Post Traumatic Stress Disorder...struggling with her fear of simply driving again, after surviving this intense collision where her car was totaled.

The only thing I could compare that all-consuming-paralizing-state-of-fear with is the dread and anxiety I endure when I come near that Red Light Violation intersection.

She nodded, but seemed a tad bit miffed at my shallow attempt to empathize.

My position is this: everyone's shock and trauma is subjective, okay?

And it's the little things in life which mame and torture.
So there.

So...anyhow...just thought I'd give you a glimpse of my happenings as of recent.

Haven't come up with a theme song of the thing's for damn sure...
if those Yankees don't start annihilating each and every team they come up against in the next few weeks...we ain't gonna be in the playoffs...and...I for one, will be a very unpleasant person to be around in October.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Just pitch the damn ball, you guys!

Happy Monday...

hate the Red Sox...

go A's...

and stop on yellows.