The government hates me too.
Back to the legislative history library again this morning. You have to pay a buck an hour to park in the adjacent lot, but they don't have individual meters on the spaces there. Each is numbered. You have to walk up to a single meter to the side of the lot, pop in some coinage, and plug in your number.
So I arrive at 9:10 and plug in one hour's worth of time. I'm cool until 10:10. I get back right about that time and see a ticket under my windshield wiper as I approach my car. The ticket is a handwritten carbon copy indicating that I had committed the offense of having an expired meter. How much is the fine going to set me back? This is information that the City of St. Paul feels should be hidden from the public apparently, since the ticket doesn't say. Instead, it instructs you to call the city in ten days to find out, like I'm turning in a damn lottery ticket or something.
That little omission from a simple boilerplate form is enough to set me off, but the other little detail had me ready to return to libertarianism. The time that I was given this ticket was 9:29. Let's review: I put an hour's worth of money in the machine for space #89 at 9:10. I get a ticket at 9:29, a point at which I have a frickin' property interest in that space for a further 41 minutes. Yet they give me a ticket. Just doling them out like candy on Halloween.
I called the number on the ticket to talk to a machine...that directed me to another machine. I eventually managed to connect to a human being who was even more worthless than a recorded human voice. I explain my situation. She tells me I can call back in ten days and get a court date for what will likely be about a $30 ticket. I asked if I could talk to the machine again.
What the hell is wrong with the people who make the decision to paper a machine with signs noting its defects rather than fixing them? Or the ones who design a parking ticket that doesn't even bother to note how much the ticket is for? It's not all government (looking at you, Dave), but the people who really have no reason to care. The problem is that we aren't voters to these people because they aren't elected. We aren't customers to them because they don't need our patronage. We're subjects because they take it. They realize over time that they can abuse the public like this while layering processes over processes (call a machine in ten days and find out when you can challenge your arbitrary $30 ticket in court) so that we would rather put up the $30 than deal with the hassle.
Well screw that. I don't care if it's a hassle. This has become a matter of principle now. I read once that William Wallace started his war against the English after they took away his fish. He caught it and they took it. It was just the straw that broke the camel's back. This is my fish, dammit. The City of St. Paul can have my $30 or $35 or whatever they frickin' decide it's going to be in ten days when they pry it from my cold, dead, lifeless hands.
So I arrive at 9:10 and plug in one hour's worth of time. I'm cool until 10:10. I get back right about that time and see a ticket under my windshield wiper as I approach my car. The ticket is a handwritten carbon copy indicating that I had committed the offense of having an expired meter. How much is the fine going to set me back? This is information that the City of St. Paul feels should be hidden from the public apparently, since the ticket doesn't say. Instead, it instructs you to call the city in ten days to find out, like I'm turning in a damn lottery ticket or something.
That little omission from a simple boilerplate form is enough to set me off, but the other little detail had me ready to return to libertarianism. The time that I was given this ticket was 9:29. Let's review: I put an hour's worth of money in the machine for space #89 at 9:10. I get a ticket at 9:29, a point at which I have a frickin' property interest in that space for a further 41 minutes. Yet they give me a ticket. Just doling them out like candy on Halloween.
I called the number on the ticket to talk to a machine...that directed me to another machine. I eventually managed to connect to a human being who was even more worthless than a recorded human voice. I explain my situation. She tells me I can call back in ten days and get a court date for what will likely be about a $30 ticket. I asked if I could talk to the machine again.
What the hell is wrong with the people who make the decision to paper a machine with signs noting its defects rather than fixing them? Or the ones who design a parking ticket that doesn't even bother to note how much the ticket is for? It's not all government (looking at you, Dave), but the people who really have no reason to care. The problem is that we aren't voters to these people because they aren't elected. We aren't customers to them because they don't need our patronage. We're subjects because they take it. They realize over time that they can abuse the public like this while layering processes over processes (call a machine in ten days and find out when you can challenge your arbitrary $30 ticket in court) so that we would rather put up the $30 than deal with the hassle.
Well screw that. I don't care if it's a hassle. This has become a matter of principle now. I read once that William Wallace started his war against the English after they took away his fish. He caught it and they took it. It was just the straw that broke the camel's back. This is my fish, dammit. The City of St. Paul can have my $30 or $35 or whatever they frickin' decide it's going to be in ten days when they pry it from my cold, dead, lifeless hands.
posted by Your Friendly Neighborhood Clark Bar at 9/08/2006 06:47:00 PM
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5 Comments:
I wouldn't want to ever make you mad. Go get em! :-)
It is the principle. Good for you!
(PS - not Simon, Randy and Paula for me - I was cut in the first round. SUPER! But atleast I did it!)
Stick it to 'em.
I get so sick of that kind of bureaucracy as well, and I generally take every excuse I can to declare war. ;)
So long as you've got your parking slip for the day, you're money. Look me up when you're down in St. Paul for your courtdate. I'll be more than happy to show you around the courthouse! I've gotten St. Paul parking tickets too, and I've always been pissed by the indeterminable fine. They send me a carbon copy of a valueless ticket, I'm tempted to send them a photocopy of a blank, unsigned check.
Brett, you need to get one of those sweet Diplomat plates that they have in NYC. You can park pretty much anywhere and not worry about getting a ticket.
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