Moving Violations 101

Speeding tickets are an unwelcome accessory that, if you're a heavy-footed daily commuter like me, you come to expect every 50 to 75,000 miles or so. That doesn't mean I'm real stoked on receiving random $200 tickets, but it's an occupational hazard I've come to accept. I would imagine this theory also applies in other scenarios. For example, if you're one of those guys known for dipping his noodle into any available vagina in a three-state radius, you're bound to get some lumps and bumps on your pee pee from time to time. The question is, does the good outweigh the bad? In my case, getting to work as fast as possible, so I can leave as fast as possible, is worth the risk. So by that same rationale, being randomly plagued by oozing genital warts or the sensation that you're pissing Ginsu knives may be totally acceptable consequences for the guys who make up the cologne-drenched barfly set. It depends on your point-of-view I suppose.

This theory, however, cannot be logically applied to all scenarios involving pricey traffic violations. Case in point: During my last trip to Los Angeles this past November, I was treated to the invisible and wallet-draining sting of robotic justice (Photographic evidence included above). Yes motherfuckers, robots. Not only do they take jobs from assembly line laborers and custodial workers, they now clandestinely issue traffic tickets too. As you can see, I learned the hard way.

It turns out Los Angeles has what's called an Automated Enforcement Bureau. Robocop, right? Basically, it's the same shit you've heard about from Police departments in other cities, a camera mounted at an intersection that begins taping once a traffic signal turns red (in hopes of capturing images of folks who run red lights, like me). Now I'm not sure what the hell actually happened, because I don't normally run red lights. So perhaps I had a mini-stroke, or maybe I shut my eyes and tried to drive through the intersection Helen-Keller style, I don't know. And honestly, I can accept responsibility for my mistake. But what's frustrating about the violation in question is the exhorbitant price tag. 

So not only was I outsmarted by a robot police officer, Robocop turned out to be an absolute shitbird and sent me, on Christmas Eve, a citation for $380. The main shock was the fact that I didn't know it was coming. I had run the red light a month earlier (not realizing I did so), and had no clue that I was about to be mugged via USPS. What is nice though, is that the Automated Enforcement Bureau provides you with photo and video evidence of your violation. Unfortunately I couldn't embed the video here. But I was able to download the photos. Fuckin' robots.

PS: This was, of course, a rental car. So I'd like to thank the kind folks at Enterprise for ratting out a loyal customer.