Back in September I received my first speeding ticket. It was stupid. I don't think the cop even used a speed measuring device, I think he just guessed my speed and waved me over. I think this because he was in the process of giving another ticket when he waved me over. AND the second officer near him was ALSO busy giving a ticket. There were no other officers around to clock me.
Am I guilty? Hell yeah.
Am I gonna contest? Hell yeah.
If I didn't contest it, I would be taking all of our constitutional rights for granted! If I merely paid the ticket, it would be like taking a big smelly poo on the pillars of justice of this great country. The county has to prove it's case against ALL defendants! I may be guilty but I'm protecting the procedural rights of all those innocent defendants that will come after me- preponderance of the evidence, y'all!
That, and I can't afford to pay the $113 fine...
So yesterday, Jacob accompanied me to the county courthouse while I filed my discovery requests. He ran in circles by my feet and ran up to creepy looking DUI defendants, dead beat dads who missed their child support payments and ex boyfriends who violated their restraining orders. Maybe now is a good time to teach him not to talk to strangers (except for Halloween when it is perfectle OK to accept candy from total strangers dressed as Count Dracula or a serial killer).
I walked into the District Court office and submitted my beautiful, typed request for the court to subpoena witnesses for my contested hearing. It felt nothing short of magical. The clerk took my request and stamped it "Filed" (so official!). It was all over so quickly but I walked away feeling empowered. I JUST SUBMITTED A REQUEST FOR SUBPOENA! I did it all on my own! I know my way around this here courthouse!
I was walking on air. Anything I touched then would have turned to gold. "Heck," I thought, "this is fun! I should get more speeding tickets."
I grabbed Jacob and walked outside. And with the glow of accomplishment still fresh on my face, I happened to walk under a tree, the wrong tree. That's when some cheeky little bird splattered my hair with fresh bird shit.