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Hi Ariel,
An important letter came in the mail for you at Becky's. I know you've gotten similar ones from the MVD and I gave one of them to you last week along with some other mail. I scanned this one in so I can send it to you sooner (see attached). It's no bueno. Basically your license is suspended, like David's. If you need help with any fees they may ask for, let me know. Also be really careful when you drive to not get pulled over. :(
Let me know if there is anything I can do to help!
Love ya!
Haley
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The situation may seem dire, but you don't know the half of it. I'll tell you exactly how things went down.
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Despite the late hour, It was boiling outside. I was flying down the freeway. I owned the world, and I owed nothing to the people in it. My windows were rolled down, and the blast of hot air through the car did nothing but boil my blood and tint the world red.
I turned on my radio. Nothing but junk. Newscasters hiding their glee while they report the tragedies of the day: the carnage being wreaked in the middle east, a local woman gone crazy leaves her children under a freeway overpass, one of the biggest bookstores is going out of business, millions are out of work. The world was spiraling down the drain. I turned off the radio and put in a mixtape of one of my favorite bands, Band of Horses.
Gonna take a dip in the lake
Oh, I'm at a crossroads with myself
I don't got no one else
My angst began to fade as the song went on. I reminded myself, you have to pick your battles. The world is too big of a place, and there are too many people in it.
I sat back and put one leg up on my seat, prepared for the long drive home from work. All of a sudden, I saw flashing lights in my rearview mirror, and heard that horrible piercing yelp of a squad car. I hate patrol cars. They remind me of sharks with souless eyes, just trolling the roads for that one little fish with the gimpy fin. Looks like I was that fish.
I checked for traffic on my right and moved over to the side of the road, just before the exit ramp, just before freedom. I did a quick mental sweep of my vehicle. Compromising paraphernalia? Negative. Headlights? I think they were working. Tabs? ...expired six months ago. I had yet to register my car in my new state of Arizona, it was a tricky situation involving ownership of the car and power of attorney. A bureaucratic mess I had had no interest in completing, and I was paying for it now. Despite the heat I was in, I was curiously numb to the situation. More curious as to what would happen than frightened or nervous, as if I were observing the practice of roadside patrol work for a class or project.
The police officer walked towards my drivers door. I say walk, but perhaps the word sauntered would be more fitting. He was all aviator sunglasses and a big shiny belt buckle. I sunk into my seat as he came around to my window. His flashlight shone in my face, searing my eyes for a moment and leaving little spots wherever I looked. He was attractive enough, with a firm jawline and sun-browned skin. Without saying a word, he shined his light throughout my little car, checking for drugs or illegals or guns or who knows what. Finally, and with an air of complete confidence in his authority, he turned to me.
"Do you know why I pulled you over today?"
A dozen sarcastic retorts dashed through my mind. "No sir, I don't suppose I do."
"A light on your rear license plate is out. Doesn't light up your plates properly."
Good grief. He pulled me over for this? Nice to see our tax dollars put to work. Thank heavens for those cocky douchebag cops who spend their lonely patrol nights pulling over dangerous individuals like myself. A burnt out bulb, can you imagine!
I didn't give these thoughts voice of course, I wanted to squeeze my way out of the encounter with a slap on the wrist, perhaps a vague understanding that I would replace my light first thing tomorrow morning. Right. But Mr. Authority wasn't through protecting America quite yet.
"Can I see your license and registration?"
I handed it to him and watched him in my rearview mirror as he strutted back to his patrol car. I turned up the volume on my CD player, reclined my seat, and closed my eyes. Let what will happen, happen.
What you live with and what you'll do without
I'm only sorry that it took so long to figure out...
I didn't want to be here, in this moment. I wanted to be home, I wanted to be curled up on the couch with a good book or calling up a friend to go to a movie. Why was I being pulled over for an extinguished bulb and about to be ticketed for not having the proper sticker on my car? I resented every second of this forced encounter with authority. I'd always paid my taxes (despite the fact that I find them highly illegal and unethical). I'm not a crackhead and I don't beat my family. I try to do good by my fellow man. Yet there I was, sitting in my car on the side of the road, while a stranger with a god-complex decides my fate. All because of a light and a sticker.
Authority suddenly appeared at my window. I moved to turn down the music and turned to him to hear my sentence delivered.
"Your tabs are expired by over six months, you're not registered here in Arizona. I'm going to issue you a citation, here's the address for the courthouse if you want to dispute-"
"-Sir, please forgive me for interrupting, but before you go any further I'd like to say a few words."
Authority stood up straight, obviously taken aback that I would dare to interrupt him. I took advantage of his momentary hesitation and continued.
"I want you to know that I resent this exchange. Not the exchange with you personally, but with the principles of our meeting. I resent the ticket you are about to give me, not because it will cost me money that I don't have, but because I believe it is trivial and unnecessary and irrelevant and will only cause me difficulty and irritation down the road. I don't believe that you have the right, as an 'official' whom I did not elect nor endorse, to cause me this anguish. Neither you nor the institution that you represent have any right whatsoever to inhibit nor infringe upon my property or person. I should not be sitting here now, you do not have the authority to keep me from my business.
I have done nothing wrong, I've harmed no one. I was not swerving through the lanes nor driving at unsafe speeds and therefore endangering others. I am on my way home after a productive day at work, trading my labor for pay, part of which goes to pay for your living. Therefore, my life makes yours possible.
Give me your piece of paper, and perhaps a few weeks later I will send your institution some scraps of paper in return. And why not? They are both worthless bits of trash with no utility, not even fit to write upon as they are already covered with characters. They only have as much power and sway over our lives as we will give them. But know that your authority, and the authority of what you stand for, works in much the same manner. When we as individuals accept and embrace the reality that we alone craft our fortunes, and that the infringement by others on our personal liberties is the greatest wrong that can be perpetuated, you sir, will be out of a job."
I turned the key in the ignition and turned the stereo volume back up. The officer stepped away from my vehicle. I turned in my seat, checked for traffic on my left, and maneuvered out onto the road before me.
I'm never looking over my shoulder
I sing to you
I sing it to you...
I drove the way back home, and no lights followed me there. Once home, I read my book and had my supper, and when I climbed into bed I fell asleep at peace.
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