By way of background: the municipal and county governments in metro Atlanta, GA are simply shameful. Those in King Co., WA think they have it bad when they are forced to pull three permits and conduct an environmental impact study to build a shed, but they should try things out down here. To stay in the construction vein: down here we have an informal system by which contractors are allowed to commence work with a hand-painted, plywood sign posted proudly in the yard of the site reading "Permit Applied For." Not only are these asshats ending sentences in prepositions, but they're starting work without an actual permit in place! The King Co. folks are at least guaranteed that no daycare is built without proper, full cavity search-style inspection.
Whatever else is wrong with Atlanta and its ornery big sister, Fulton County, the police are definitely a low point in the menu of municipal services. The APD has been responsible for, among other debacles, the ludicrous shooting of elderly Atlanta resident Kathryn Johnston, pictured below:
The bunglers at APD were also responsible for a GEM of a raid on the Atlanta Eagle, a rough-trade gay bar in Midtown Atlanta, approximately 500 feet from which the Rooster had the misfortune of living. I will say that when this raid went down, I was cheerful, even giddy that the leather-clad bears who had long terrorized my neighborhood were going to be (tamed?-- is that too homoerotic sounding?), well, you get the point. Anyway, I was with the APD in spirit on this one, but, again, Atlanta's finest found a way to shit in their own nest... The total paid out by the city in settlement dollars to patrons of Underwear Night because the clown police couldn't stop from using derogatory language in front of a BAR FULL of outraged gay men: ~$1.15m.
I say all that to say this: I am no fan of the APD. I was issued a ticket in August for expired tags. Yes, I get it, you have to purchase a renewal tag yearly, but failure to do so seems like it should result in a stern (but fair) warning from a chagrined cop who has given you the same warning for at least three weeks. I know this sounds unreasonable, but I don't want an embittered, mustachioed black man with motorcycle boots and (apparently) latex pants looking at me like I had just shot up a bus stop, when I have, in fact, committed an offense that endangered no-one and really didn't hurt the state- the $20 in additional charges they levied against me were, I'm sure, just compensation for the month of delay in payment. But I digress.
So, the right thing to do, of course, would be to just let me go with a wag of the finger and an admonishment to "Keep it between the ditches," but Shaft wrote me the ticket anyway. ATL- 1; Woodster- 0.* Fast forward to today, which was Oct. 20, my day in court for the alleged offense of driving with an expired tag. Before going to court, I was on an unrelated mission to Advance Auto Parts (if you're ever at the store on Metropolitan, ask for Ira, he runs a tight ship and is about as helpful as they come) to buy a new air filter for my sweet ride. I turned right at a stop light, off of a street called Dill Ave. and onto a major thoroughfare known as Metropolitan Parkway (for geography buffs). I had to make an immediate left into the parking lot of Advance, and a friendly member (or so I thought) of the APD flashed his headlights from the oncoming lane to indicate that I could turn left in front of him, and so I did. After I turned left, Ofcr. Friendly turned right into the parking lot, directly behind me. On my court date.
I got out of the car, determined to carry on with my errand and refusing to believe that this PO-lice had so casually pulled me over, with no lights or sirens. Moreover, I had committed no offense, save for the small matter of my seat belt, which the officer didn't seem to know/care about. The officer asked me for my license and registration as soon as I was out of the vehicle, but, rather than providing them, I asked the officer if I was really being pulled over. You see, I still couldn't believe that the flashing of the headlights constituted a traffic stop. Clearing that up for me, the cop explained that the reason he "stopped" me was my prior right turn onto Metropolitan from Dill. Those of you who are handy with Google's Street View already know the spoiler: there is not a single sign prohibiting a right turn on red at that intersection. I know this because I live there. There never has been any such sign, although one is probably necessary because turns from the eastbound lane of Dill are relatively blind, but, again, I digress.
I lead the officer back to the intersection, never having produced my identification and wearing my black slippers (known locally as "house shoes") and purple athletic shorts. I almost had him across Metropolitan before he gave up and admitted there was no sign. He then had the extraordinarily poor grace necessary to tell me that he "was not going to give me a ticket because there was no sign." I informed him he was actually unable to give me a ticket, for that very reason, and thanked him for his time, retreating into the auto parts store with my victory clenched between bloody teeth.
The officer's wounded pride wouldn't let him leave without at least running my plates, which he made a show of doing while all the locals inside the store congratulated me on sticking it to the man. So, I figured, they may have stuck me on my expired tag, but here I was making an absolute MOCKERY of this officer, so we were even, in my mind. Woodster- 1; ATL- 1.*
And then, continuing in the Dickensian theme, the city exacted its vengeance... Upon leaving traffic court this afternoon, still somewhat excited about my earlier victory, I found Ado sitting on the bumper of the car (she left to feed the meter) holding this:
Yes, it's a parking ticket- though you wouldn't know it because I tore off the title section in a rebel-without-a-cause-moment when Ado needed a place for her spent gum. So, we're left, unhappily, at ATL- 2; Woodster- 1.* But, my friends, as they say in war-themed pornographic films, the battle may be lost but the war is ongoing.
ROOSTER
*Although Ado did not directly participate in any of these scores, she has assumed co-responsibility in my struggles.
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