Smooth Criminal
Alright, kids, today we're gonna start with a little pop quiz. Don't worry. It's only one question.
1) What is one thing you never thought you'd hear me say, but I said it this past weekend?
a. Damn it! I really like this shirt, but it's too small for my broad shoulders.
b. Guys, I can't eat anymore Rice Crispy bars. I'm too full.
c. Shhhh. I'm trying to listen to Macy Gray!
d. Can you get me $400 cash to bail me out of jail? I just got arrested.
If you chose (a.) thank you, but you're quite obviously wrong. If you chose (b.) you have never made me my very own pan of Rice Crispy bars and should do so immediately. If you chose (c.) you and Macy Gray should die! And if you chose (d.) you are most unfortunately correct. That's right ladies and gents, I Lance "Kaptain" Morgan got arrested and spent the night in Hennepin County Jail last Friday, June 10th, 2005 while Jacko gets off on every single child molestation charge. For those of you who still don't believe it because of what a nice, responsible young man you know me to be, here is my bad ass "mug shot" to prove it:
Not bad for a first timer. Man, what I wouldn't give for my handle bar mustache right now!
This is going to be a pretty long blog trying to explain exactly what happened, so only read ahead if you have the time.
Last Thursday night after work I drove out to St. Paul to meet with Jean and had an awesome night at the MMC for an excellent showing of the Tony Sims band. We had a couple of beers, stayed until 2 am, and headed to Jean's place in Albertville, MN. I, of course, get pulled over by Hennepin County's finest while following Jean to her place since I didn't know the way. Jean takes the nearset exit and waits for my ticket to be cited. The officer asks me if I knew how fast I was going, and I answered honestly:
"No. I'm just following my friend to her place. I'm staying there tonight."
He asks for my license and asks me how much I've had to drink tonight, not if I had anything to drink tonight, but how much exactly I've had tonight. I politely inform him that I had a beer a few hours ago and he heads back to his vehicle. I then stick my head out the window and yell, "This is my mom's car, if that matters." He said that it didn't matter and continued on to his
vehicle. It wasn't too long before he came back out to my car and asked me to step outside for what I assumed was a standard DUI test. I was right. Although I was completely sober, I was
still quite nervous following his little grey pen, trying very hard to not move my chin as my knees were shaking and I thought I would fall over any minute like the drunk bastard I was not. Passing the pen test, the officer then gave me a breathalizer which stated that I did not have any alcohol in my system. Ha! Can I go home now? No.
"Have you ever received a ticket in Minnesota before?"
"Yeah. I got a speeding ticket like three years ago in Winona when I was going to school."
"Well, that might be what's giving us some trouble here. I'm gonna need you to sit in the back seat for awhile."
Um, what? I think we all know that I've gotten enough speeding tickets to know that sitting in the back seat of a police car was not standard procedure. As the officer figits around with his on-deck computer he informs me that Winona County has placed a warrent out for my arrest as of April 2001 because of said speeding ticket and he is just waiting for confirmation on the warrent. Hmmm. I could've sworn I paid that ticket pretty much the day after I received it. In fact, I delivered it in person to the Winona County Court House. What...the fuck...is going on? Confirmation is made, and I am now being taken to Hennipin County Sheriff's Office to be placed under arrest. I ask if it's okay to use my cell phone. He says yes and attempts to give me directions for Jean to the Sheriff's Office to pay my $400 bail. Then he tells me it'll be at least a couple of hours before they can even take care of anything so I try to tell Jean to go home and she insists on trying to find it in downtown Minneapolis.
"What about my mom's car?"
"It's gonna get towed. I'll give you a card that says where it's getting towed."
Fantastic! I never got such a card, nor was I ever read my rights. But since I've never been arrested before, I didn't really know if they were supposed to be read to me or not. When we arrive at the Sheriff's Office, the arresting officer asks me to step out of the vehicle. As he's holding up his handcuffs he says, "It's just standard procedure."
"Do what you gotta do, man." And he does...for about 20 feet when they are taken off by another officer inside the Sheriff's Office who then pats me down, thouroughly, takes all of my possesions minus my socks, pants, shirt and underwear. I give my tub of possesions to the property lady and take a seat in the lobby to watch the continual showing of a fascinating video about booking procedures in Hennepin County. During a very dramatic scene about handcuffing my name is called for my photo shoot with the above result. I am then directed down the hall to pick a cell to wait in. I walk in the first open one that has just a couple of other guys in it. One guy is attempting to sleep on a toilet paper roll pillow while the other is just inhebriated enough to ask anyone "what they're in for." I told him it was something in Winona that should've been taken care of three years ago. He says I definately look like someone who doesn't belong there. I thank him as he continues his random curses and questions of why exactly he was arrested, though it was quite obvious to everyone else.
Approximately 3 hours later at about 5:30 am my name is finally called to presumably find out why someone like myself is there. This also means that I have officially been up for over 24 hours straight. I get the standard identy questions of height, weight, hair/eye color, piercings/scars/tattoos, and a freckle on my cheek is mistaken for a mole. Nice. The lady who took my previous "mug shot" now attempts to inform me about why I'm there.
"You've been arrested for a warrent placed in April of 2001 from Winona County for a speeding violation. Your bail is set at $400 dollars that needs to be paid in cash. If you cannot pay for that today you may be able to settle it through Winona County if they come up today since it is still Friday. Otherwise, if you are not able to pay bail you may have to wait until Monday, or whenever Winona County can come up here to settle your case."
"So, why I am here again? Because I paid for that ticket three years ago, in person, at the court house."
"Oh, you paid the ticket?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it also says something about a failure to show proof of insurance. That could be it. I don't really know."
Does anyone fucking know what the hell is going on around here? Does anyone even try to find out before they make us dick around in Hennepin County jail all fucking night? Thanks for your help douche bags! That not being said, I quite angerily walk back to my cell to wait until my name is called again for fingerprints.
The female officer who took my prints was the only one who even attempted to help me in my situation, and was very helpful in explaining what I could do for my phone calls. It's not just one
phone call, by the way, it's a free phone call. You can call multiple people, you just can't be on the phone forever. You can call anyone locally, and have to call collect for long distance. Obviously, I wanted to get out of there and go to bed, so I stuck with the local calls. She said I could get numbers from my cell phone by asking the property lady for it, I just couldn't take the cell phone with me and/or use it in the jail. I wrote down Jean's number first because she was currently the only one who really knew about it already and, therefore, should already be expecting a phone call asking her to bail me out. However, her cell phone was still a Winona number and because it was a cell phone it wouldn't take a collect call. So, I wrote my best friend Brian's number down and my step brother Troy's number because they both live around the cities, would be up at 6 am, and loved me enough to find $400 cash to bail me out even though they don't have $400 just lying around to spend right now.
Before I could make my phone calls, the nice lady officer tells me I have to give information to the nurse down the hall. I walk over and sit in the little black chair in front of the nurse's desk and next to another officer. I sit waiting for about two minutes while they carry on a conversation about how tiny their dicks are and what a great ego boost it is to work at a Sheriff's Office, like it makes up for the years they've gone without sexual contact. I then revert back to my many years experience in customer service and realize I'm being completely ignored and do not appreciate it. I politely say, "Excuse me. I know you're used to dealing with 'criminals' but I was told I need to give some information before I can make these phone calls and get out of here." Wow. That was a mistake.
Nurse Obvious states, "You just interrupted me. That's very rude! You're very rude!"
This, of course, cues Officer Jagoff to retort, "I don't think you realize where you are right now. You're not too bright are you? I could set you up in a nice little room if you'd like. You wanna do that?"
Tweedle Limp than turns to Tweedle Dick and says, "Do you even wanna talk to this guy right now?"
Nurse "I could've been a doctor if I only had a brain" in his masculine pink scrubs attempts to stare me down as I continue to use my right to remain silent before continuing on with his story. About five minutes later he finally talks to me and I am allowed to make my phone calls.
Failing to find Jean's Albertville number in the phone book after calling a wrong number at 6 in the morning and having to apologize for it...twice, I had two other numbers to chose from. Brian or Troy. Brian or Troy. Brian or Troy. This is a best friend favor. I called Brian, and here, ladies and gentalmen, is the hardest phone call I ever had to make in my entire life:
Brian: "Hello?"
Me: "Hey, it's Lance."
Brian: "Hey."
Me: "What are you doing right now?"
B: "I just got up. What's up?"
Me: "Well, believe it or not...I got arrested."
B: "...........................What?"
Me: "It's a big misunderstanding in Winona that should've been taken care of 3 years ago. I just need to know if you think you can get $400 in cash to Hennepin County Sheriff's Office to bail me out because if you can't I need to call someone else."
B: "Well, I don't think I can take that much out of the ATM, but it shouldn't be a problem to get it from a bank. I don't think the bank opens until 9 though. Let me check.......................................................I found one that opens at 7:30. I should be able to get to the jail by 8 am."
Me: "Thanks. Can you also please call Jean so that she knows what is going on and have her meet you here so she can take me to pick up my mom's car?"
Etc. Etc. Now. I wait. Again. A little after 7 am my name is called again for Post Booking. This is where they find out how long you might be a guest at their jail so they can make the proper arrangements for you, such as a bed to sleep on (which would've been nice about 5 hours ago)! They also ask you security questions like, "Do you suffer from any cesures/behavioral problems that you know of?"
"Umm, no."
"Do you have any enemies in jail that you are aware of?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no."
"Have you had any problems with any of the other inmates thus far?"
"No."
"Would like a manuel that explains the procedures and rules of staying in our facility?"
"No, someone should be here to bail me out around 8:00 today."
I'm directed to cell number 8, which is popped open and currently occupied by a thouroughly tatooed man sleeping on the only toilet paper pillow available. I attempt to sleep on my very own concrete bench to help pass the time, but am quite unsuccessful. So, I wait. Yet again. With no clock. No conversation. Exhausted. Impatient. Bored. Angry. Confused. Hungry...finally they call my name. I ask this officer if he knows what time it is and he says it is just after 8:30. I get sent to yet another room where I see tatooed man from my last cell is sitting and I say, "Hello, again," and he asks me why I was there. I told him I didn't really know, because I didn't. We're both then taken to what I will now refer to as "The Gatekeeper" to fill out the rest of our paperwork, return the lovely slippers and receive our court date information. "The Gatekeeper" says, "Thank you. Come again." I say nothing though I'm thinking about kicking him in the nuts, and he opens the gates out of my night in hell to be greeted by two of the most beautiful angels I've ever had the pleasure of calling my friends. Jean and Brian both give me great big hugs and get me the hell out of there.
Unfortunately, a new day is just beginning. It's pourning outside, the arresting officer "forgot" to give my the card that would tell me where exactly my mom's car was towed. Just like he
conveniently "forgot" to read me my rights. The officer at the front desk had no idea where my car would be, asked me where I got my citation, and gave me a number that was not for an impound lot and was completely automated. That number gave us an address a few blocks away. Brian leads the way as we huddle under his umbrella in downtown Minneapolis on a mission to retrieve my mom's car. The lady at the information desk in this new building says the impound lot is a block or two "that way," and asks if I paid my citation yet.
"No."
"Oh, you need to pay your citation before you can pick up your car."
Hmmm, they failed to mention that back at the station. What a helpful group of people they are down in Hennepin County. I pay my citation and Brian tells me to ask for a scissors so I can cut off my "mug shot" wristband that was not removed when I left the jail. The car was not at the first impound lot, so the guy at the lot gave us a number for a different lot. The car was not there either, so this guy gave us the name of Cardinal Towing, but no number. We found it in the phone book and were told my car was there. I asked what I needed to pick up the car and they said, "license, proof of insurance and proof of ownership."
"Um, it's not my car. How does that work?"
"Just have the owner with you."
"She's on vacation in Florida. Now what?"
"Have her fax her license and proof of insurance/ownership on a note giving you permission to pick up the car, and it needs to be notorized."
Looks like I will be calling my mom and telling her what happened while she's on vacation. The impound takes cash only and I am without a bank account still. So, we find a bank to take $200 from my VISA minus a $15 service charge, and pay $180 to pick up my mom's car at about 2:30pm. Jean, after receiving only one hour of sleep, now has to go to work for a few hours. I drive to Ryan's house where I will be staying all weekend, tell him what happened, tell his family what happened, ask Winona County what happened, tell my insurance company what they need to do, eat some free pizza and take a three hour nap at about 6 pm before a bonfire later that night. To sum up:
Speeding ticket going 70 in a 55: $130
Bail money for wrongful imprisonment: $400
Service charge for cash withdrawl from VISA: $15
Picking up my mom's impounded car: $180
Experiencing the strangest weekends I've ever experienced in my entire life with the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and being that much cooler in their eyes because of it: PRICELESS.
Everything is offically settled today. So I am told...again. I was tempted to go to Winona for my court appearance anyway, but was told that since my charges have now been cleared that I don't even have a court date anymore. I have a few more different phone calls to make in order to clear my record as well. Hopefully that will work out. I've also received two letters in the mail from lawyers already and may have to take them up on their free counciltation offer to see what I can do about this gross management of offical legal documents and the failure to read me my rights on my very first arrest. Stay tuned Batfriends, same Battime, same Batblog. I haven't seen it yet, but Batman Begins opened today and looks really fucking sweet. Goddamn, I wish I was a vigilante. Justice will be mine.
1) What is one thing you never thought you'd hear me say, but I said it this past weekend?
a. Damn it! I really like this shirt, but it's too small for my broad shoulders.
b. Guys, I can't eat anymore Rice Crispy bars. I'm too full.
c. Shhhh. I'm trying to listen to Macy Gray!
d. Can you get me $400 cash to bail me out of jail? I just got arrested.
If you chose (a.) thank you, but you're quite obviously wrong. If you chose (b.) you have never made me my very own pan of Rice Crispy bars and should do so immediately. If you chose (c.) you and Macy Gray should die! And if you chose (d.) you are most unfortunately correct. That's right ladies and gents, I Lance "Kaptain" Morgan got arrested and spent the night in Hennepin County Jail last Friday, June 10th, 2005 while Jacko gets off on every single child molestation charge. For those of you who still don't believe it because of what a nice, responsible young man you know me to be, here is my bad ass "mug shot" to prove it:
Not bad for a first timer. Man, what I wouldn't give for my handle bar mustache right now!
This is going to be a pretty long blog trying to explain exactly what happened, so only read ahead if you have the time.
Last Thursday night after work I drove out to St. Paul to meet with Jean and had an awesome night at the MMC for an excellent showing of the Tony Sims band. We had a couple of beers, stayed until 2 am, and headed to Jean's place in Albertville, MN. I, of course, get pulled over by Hennepin County's finest while following Jean to her place since I didn't know the way. Jean takes the nearset exit and waits for my ticket to be cited. The officer asks me if I knew how fast I was going, and I answered honestly:
"No. I'm just following my friend to her place. I'm staying there tonight."
He asks for my license and asks me how much I've had to drink tonight, not if I had anything to drink tonight, but how much exactly I've had tonight. I politely inform him that I had a beer a few hours ago and he heads back to his vehicle. I then stick my head out the window and yell, "This is my mom's car, if that matters." He said that it didn't matter and continued on to his
vehicle. It wasn't too long before he came back out to my car and asked me to step outside for what I assumed was a standard DUI test. I was right. Although I was completely sober, I was
still quite nervous following his little grey pen, trying very hard to not move my chin as my knees were shaking and I thought I would fall over any minute like the drunk bastard I was not. Passing the pen test, the officer then gave me a breathalizer which stated that I did not have any alcohol in my system. Ha! Can I go home now? No.
"Have you ever received a ticket in Minnesota before?"
"Yeah. I got a speeding ticket like three years ago in Winona when I was going to school."
"Well, that might be what's giving us some trouble here. I'm gonna need you to sit in the back seat for awhile."
Um, what? I think we all know that I've gotten enough speeding tickets to know that sitting in the back seat of a police car was not standard procedure. As the officer figits around with his on-deck computer he informs me that Winona County has placed a warrent out for my arrest as of April 2001 because of said speeding ticket and he is just waiting for confirmation on the warrent. Hmmm. I could've sworn I paid that ticket pretty much the day after I received it. In fact, I delivered it in person to the Winona County Court House. What...the fuck...is going on? Confirmation is made, and I am now being taken to Hennipin County Sheriff's Office to be placed under arrest. I ask if it's okay to use my cell phone. He says yes and attempts to give me directions for Jean to the Sheriff's Office to pay my $400 bail. Then he tells me it'll be at least a couple of hours before they can even take care of anything so I try to tell Jean to go home and she insists on trying to find it in downtown Minneapolis.
"What about my mom's car?"
"It's gonna get towed. I'll give you a card that says where it's getting towed."
Fantastic! I never got such a card, nor was I ever read my rights. But since I've never been arrested before, I didn't really know if they were supposed to be read to me or not. When we arrive at the Sheriff's Office, the arresting officer asks me to step out of the vehicle. As he's holding up his handcuffs he says, "It's just standard procedure."
"Do what you gotta do, man." And he does...for about 20 feet when they are taken off by another officer inside the Sheriff's Office who then pats me down, thouroughly, takes all of my possesions minus my socks, pants, shirt and underwear. I give my tub of possesions to the property lady and take a seat in the lobby to watch the continual showing of a fascinating video about booking procedures in Hennepin County. During a very dramatic scene about handcuffing my name is called for my photo shoot with the above result. I am then directed down the hall to pick a cell to wait in. I walk in the first open one that has just a couple of other guys in it. One guy is attempting to sleep on a toilet paper roll pillow while the other is just inhebriated enough to ask anyone "what they're in for." I told him it was something in Winona that should've been taken care of three years ago. He says I definately look like someone who doesn't belong there. I thank him as he continues his random curses and questions of why exactly he was arrested, though it was quite obvious to everyone else.
Approximately 3 hours later at about 5:30 am my name is finally called to presumably find out why someone like myself is there. This also means that I have officially been up for over 24 hours straight. I get the standard identy questions of height, weight, hair/eye color, piercings/scars/tattoos, and a freckle on my cheek is mistaken for a mole. Nice. The lady who took my previous "mug shot" now attempts to inform me about why I'm there.
"You've been arrested for a warrent placed in April of 2001 from Winona County for a speeding violation. Your bail is set at $400 dollars that needs to be paid in cash. If you cannot pay for that today you may be able to settle it through Winona County if they come up today since it is still Friday. Otherwise, if you are not able to pay bail you may have to wait until Monday, or whenever Winona County can come up here to settle your case."
"So, why I am here again? Because I paid for that ticket three years ago, in person, at the court house."
"Oh, you paid the ticket?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it also says something about a failure to show proof of insurance. That could be it. I don't really know."
Does anyone fucking know what the hell is going on around here? Does anyone even try to find out before they make us dick around in Hennepin County jail all fucking night? Thanks for your help douche bags! That not being said, I quite angerily walk back to my cell to wait until my name is called again for fingerprints.
The female officer who took my prints was the only one who even attempted to help me in my situation, and was very helpful in explaining what I could do for my phone calls. It's not just one
phone call, by the way, it's a free phone call. You can call multiple people, you just can't be on the phone forever. You can call anyone locally, and have to call collect for long distance. Obviously, I wanted to get out of there and go to bed, so I stuck with the local calls. She said I could get numbers from my cell phone by asking the property lady for it, I just couldn't take the cell phone with me and/or use it in the jail. I wrote down Jean's number first because she was currently the only one who really knew about it already and, therefore, should already be expecting a phone call asking her to bail me out. However, her cell phone was still a Winona number and because it was a cell phone it wouldn't take a collect call. So, I wrote my best friend Brian's number down and my step brother Troy's number because they both live around the cities, would be up at 6 am, and loved me enough to find $400 cash to bail me out even though they don't have $400 just lying around to spend right now.
Before I could make my phone calls, the nice lady officer tells me I have to give information to the nurse down the hall. I walk over and sit in the little black chair in front of the nurse's desk and next to another officer. I sit waiting for about two minutes while they carry on a conversation about how tiny their dicks are and what a great ego boost it is to work at a Sheriff's Office, like it makes up for the years they've gone without sexual contact. I then revert back to my many years experience in customer service and realize I'm being completely ignored and do not appreciate it. I politely say, "Excuse me. I know you're used to dealing with 'criminals' but I was told I need to give some information before I can make these phone calls and get out of here." Wow. That was a mistake.
Nurse Obvious states, "You just interrupted me. That's very rude! You're very rude!"
This, of course, cues Officer Jagoff to retort, "I don't think you realize where you are right now. You're not too bright are you? I could set you up in a nice little room if you'd like. You wanna do that?"
Tweedle Limp than turns to Tweedle Dick and says, "Do you even wanna talk to this guy right now?"
Nurse "I could've been a doctor if I only had a brain" in his masculine pink scrubs attempts to stare me down as I continue to use my right to remain silent before continuing on with his story. About five minutes later he finally talks to me and I am allowed to make my phone calls.
Failing to find Jean's Albertville number in the phone book after calling a wrong number at 6 in the morning and having to apologize for it...twice, I had two other numbers to chose from. Brian or Troy. Brian or Troy. Brian or Troy. This is a best friend favor. I called Brian, and here, ladies and gentalmen, is the hardest phone call I ever had to make in my entire life:
Brian: "Hello?"
Me: "Hey, it's Lance."
Brian: "Hey."
Me: "What are you doing right now?"
B: "I just got up. What's up?"
Me: "Well, believe it or not...I got arrested."
B: "...........................What?"
Me: "It's a big misunderstanding in Winona that should've been taken care of 3 years ago. I just need to know if you think you can get $400 in cash to Hennepin County Sheriff's Office to bail me out because if you can't I need to call someone else."
B: "Well, I don't think I can take that much out of the ATM, but it shouldn't be a problem to get it from a bank. I don't think the bank opens until 9 though. Let me check.......................................................I found one that opens at 7:30. I should be able to get to the jail by 8 am."
Me: "Thanks. Can you also please call Jean so that she knows what is going on and have her meet you here so she can take me to pick up my mom's car?"
Etc. Etc. Now. I wait. Again. A little after 7 am my name is called again for Post Booking. This is where they find out how long you might be a guest at their jail so they can make the proper arrangements for you, such as a bed to sleep on (which would've been nice about 5 hours ago)! They also ask you security questions like, "Do you suffer from any cesures/behavioral problems that you know of?"
"Umm, no."
"Do you have any enemies in jail that you are aware of?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no."
"Have you had any problems with any of the other inmates thus far?"
"No."
"Would like a manuel that explains the procedures and rules of staying in our facility?"
"No, someone should be here to bail me out around 8:00 today."
I'm directed to cell number 8, which is popped open and currently occupied by a thouroughly tatooed man sleeping on the only toilet paper pillow available. I attempt to sleep on my very own concrete bench to help pass the time, but am quite unsuccessful. So, I wait. Yet again. With no clock. No conversation. Exhausted. Impatient. Bored. Angry. Confused. Hungry...finally they call my name. I ask this officer if he knows what time it is and he says it is just after 8:30. I get sent to yet another room where I see tatooed man from my last cell is sitting and I say, "Hello, again," and he asks me why I was there. I told him I didn't really know, because I didn't. We're both then taken to what I will now refer to as "The Gatekeeper" to fill out the rest of our paperwork, return the lovely slippers and receive our court date information. "The Gatekeeper" says, "Thank you. Come again." I say nothing though I'm thinking about kicking him in the nuts, and he opens the gates out of my night in hell to be greeted by two of the most beautiful angels I've ever had the pleasure of calling my friends. Jean and Brian both give me great big hugs and get me the hell out of there.
Unfortunately, a new day is just beginning. It's pourning outside, the arresting officer "forgot" to give my the card that would tell me where exactly my mom's car was towed. Just like he
conveniently "forgot" to read me my rights. The officer at the front desk had no idea where my car would be, asked me where I got my citation, and gave me a number that was not for an impound lot and was completely automated. That number gave us an address a few blocks away. Brian leads the way as we huddle under his umbrella in downtown Minneapolis on a mission to retrieve my mom's car. The lady at the information desk in this new building says the impound lot is a block or two "that way," and asks if I paid my citation yet.
"No."
"Oh, you need to pay your citation before you can pick up your car."
Hmmm, they failed to mention that back at the station. What a helpful group of people they are down in Hennepin County. I pay my citation and Brian tells me to ask for a scissors so I can cut off my "mug shot" wristband that was not removed when I left the jail. The car was not at the first impound lot, so the guy at the lot gave us a number for a different lot. The car was not there either, so this guy gave us the name of Cardinal Towing, but no number. We found it in the phone book and were told my car was there. I asked what I needed to pick up the car and they said, "license, proof of insurance and proof of ownership."
"Um, it's not my car. How does that work?"
"Just have the owner with you."
"She's on vacation in Florida. Now what?"
"Have her fax her license and proof of insurance/ownership on a note giving you permission to pick up the car, and it needs to be notorized."
Looks like I will be calling my mom and telling her what happened while she's on vacation. The impound takes cash only and I am without a bank account still. So, we find a bank to take $200 from my VISA minus a $15 service charge, and pay $180 to pick up my mom's car at about 2:30pm. Jean, after receiving only one hour of sleep, now has to go to work for a few hours. I drive to Ryan's house where I will be staying all weekend, tell him what happened, tell his family what happened, ask Winona County what happened, tell my insurance company what they need to do, eat some free pizza and take a three hour nap at about 6 pm before a bonfire later that night. To sum up:
Speeding ticket going 70 in a 55: $130
Bail money for wrongful imprisonment: $400
Service charge for cash withdrawl from VISA: $15
Picking up my mom's impounded car: $180
Experiencing the strangest weekends I've ever experienced in my entire life with the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and being that much cooler in their eyes because of it: PRICELESS.
Everything is offically settled today. So I am told...again. I was tempted to go to Winona for my court appearance anyway, but was told that since my charges have now been cleared that I don't even have a court date anymore. I have a few more different phone calls to make in order to clear my record as well. Hopefully that will work out. I've also received two letters in the mail from lawyers already and may have to take them up on their free counciltation offer to see what I can do about this gross management of offical legal documents and the failure to read me my rights on my very first arrest. Stay tuned Batfriends, same Battime, same Batblog. I haven't seen it yet, but Batman Begins opened today and looks really fucking sweet. Goddamn, I wish I was a vigilante. Justice will be mine.
posted by L-Kapitan | 12:13 AM
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3 comments
