On Fat Cops and Thin Wallets...

So I was headed off to my favorite bakery the other day, anxious to buy a load of their famous oatmeal salted carmel cookies (Great Harvest, Temecula, CA).  

I am feverishly addicted to them.  They are like crack.  And if they were next door and more accessible, I'd weight 700 pounds.

Anyway, I'm driving along one of our wide, wide neighborhood boulevards, 3 lanes on each side, 10:00 a.m., bright Spring morning, through a nice neighborhood, 50 mph speed limit, and my phone rang.  The subject of which made it necessary to change my plans.  So I found the next stop light and made a "U" turn.  On the left turn arrow.  A very costly turn, as it turned out...

It seems  that I made the Earth-shattering mistake of "U" turning in a no-"U" turn lane.  Into a quiet neighborhood.  Without a single car within sight in either direction.  Except I was facing the blaring sun, straight in front of me, ten o'clock high, glaring off my windshield, and couldn't see the little sign.  The one hanging from under the stop light.  The one that says, "No U Turn."

So a fat cop on a Kawasaki pulled me over.  It seems he was hiding behind a parked car, just waiting for some poor schlub to violate some law or other so he could collect some more revenue.  Like a good road pirate should.

When he came to my window and said, "Do you know why I pulled your over?"  We know a recent law in Taxifornia makes it illegal for cops to pull that trick.  So I said, "If you don't know, why did you pull me over?   

He didn't answer.  But the scowl on his pudgy face was evident.  He took my information and disappeared for about 20 minutes.  I'm convinced that since I haven't had a ticket in more than 20 years, he was playing poker on his cell phone.  Or maybe visiting his OnlyFans account.  Or maybe trying to find some other reason to hem me up.  Maybe call out a puppy and run him around my car.  Looking for contriband.  They do that here in Taxifornia...   

Fat Cop finally reappeared with a lengthy ticked in tow.  I asked him why I wasn't getting a warning, given the fact I'm not an international terrorist?  And I'm "of age," and haven't gotten a ticket in like forever, and couldn't see the friggin' sign because of the sun?  And for all he knew I'm living on a subsistence budget and should be given a break?  

Seems like Fat Cop was in no mood to cut me any slack.  Maybe my car was nicer than his.  Or he didn't care for my response to his illegal question.  Cops, especially Fat ones, get a bad case of the "Butthurt" if you don't show them fielty and lick their boots.  But I guess they don't give warnings any more.  Until they reach their monthly ticket quotas, that is.

Or maybe he was pissed because he didn't get the job on the mariachi band.  

"Here's your ticket," he said gruffly.  "For running that light" (which I didn't!).  "Sign here..."

Realising I'd be snagged, I decided to go out in a blaze of glory.  I said, "I'd like to say how proud of you I am for 'protecting and serving' this quiet community from an aged old Veteran."  I then went on to say, 

"I'd like to say that, but I can't."

Fat Cop had a quizzicle look on his mustacheoed face, trying to figure out if I'd dissed him.  And if so, how hard.  But then again, he was not equipped by God to deduce such intellectual musings.  He was one of those worker drones supplied only with the brain cells necessary to ride that silly bike and write tickets.  Gobs and gobs of tickets.  And gather up scads of revenue.  

And eat donuts.  

I drove off with a display of speed, tires chirpping as I left, daring Fat Cop to cite me, while he played with himself on his motorscooter.  I came home pissed.  No cookies, but ticket in tow.  I immediately Googled "traffic courts," And dozens showed up.  I picked the one at the top, not wishing to invest any more time than necessary before I could figuratively wash Fat Cop's fingerprints off my Drivers Licence.  

And off my life...

Epilogue:  Fat Cop is in my rearview mirror, thank God, and so is $389.00 of my hard-earned money.  $320.00 for the ticket, and $69.00 for the "Fast & Furious" traffic court.  Plus "Graduation certificate suitable for framing."  There were about a dozen categories, such as "Staying in your lane," and "Avoiding Rear-Enders," and "Don't Speed."  I decided not to read the laborious info and just take the test.  I got 98 out of 100.

What a load of bullsh*t.

But I still can't see road signs if the sun bakes my eyeballs.  Maybe Fat Cop can, fueled by XX, but normal citizens cannot.  Especially if Fat Cops hide behind parked cars at the appropriate times each day, when the sun's just right in the sky, so they can fatten up their city's fat coffers.  While being fat.  Which in my opinion is the main reason they exist.

I'm over my ticket.  But I'm not over the System that produced it.  And lightened my shrinking wallet.  We've created a paramilitary force within our borders, which is designed, created and implemented to catch us in an infraction, detain us, grab our "papers," and take our money.  While simulataneously letting real criminals out the revolving door.  They're taught only the laws while in the academy which will bring in revenue.  And then released upon the public to snatch their employer's money.  

Those employers would be us.  

If anybody can come up with a system that doesn't make the citizens afraid of their sworn protectors, whose salaries they pay, he/she/it will win the hearts and minds of the Taxpayers...