Monday, August 17, 2020

My Day in Court

 This is a subject I didn't want to cover until I knew what the resolution would be.  Back in late February, I 'earned' the first traffic ticket I'd gotten in almost exactly twenty-five years.  While driving to work at around 11PM, a New York State Trooper pulled me over for a 'rolling stop', claiming that I had proceeded through a stop sign without coming to a complete halt.  

I checked the 'not guilty' box on the ticket, indicating that I was willing to go to court to dispute the ticket.  My one point of contention is that I came to a complete stop at the stop sign, and that what appeared to be a rolling stop actually represented my proceeding through a pedestrian crossing, and tapping my brakes because I saw a car proceeding northbound on the roadway I'd planned to turn into.  I immediately went into 'investigative mode', drawing on the skills I had picked up while investigating insurance claims back in the 1990s.  In this case, it involved photographing the intersection.  Here we see the intersection, with the 'stop' line on the left...  my argument would be that the 'rolling stop' occurred at one of the righthand lines, which represent the crosswalk:


I also took measurements of the intersection, determining that the stop line was sixteen feet, nine inches from the intersection, which is longer than my wee car:


The argument that I had prepared in my head was, "Because Officer *REDACTED* and I had different vantage points, our perspective, in the literal sense of the word, differs."  I was counting on the ambiguity of the scene (especially given the fact that it occurred at night) exonerating me.  An attorney friend actually joked, "I've never heard of a Rashomon defense for a traffic ticket!"

My original court date was set for late April, but it was put on hold until August 17 due to the COVID-19 pandemic.  This morning, I put on long pants, decent shoes, and a collared, button down shirt for the first time since March.  I hopped on the Number 7 Bee-Line bus to take me to the courthouse, which is across town, opposite City Hall.  I arrived a half-hour early for my court appearance.  Most of the other defendants were dressed in shorts or jeans, and T-shirts, but I'm not the sort who dresses down for court.

Before the courtroom was opened, a representative of the Yonkers Police Department had us line up and gave us the option to plea down to lesser charges.  We could continue to fight the ticket, and if we unsuccessful, we'd have to pay a full fine and full points would accrue to our licences.  In my case, I would accumulate three points on my license.  The PD rep informed me that a guilty plea to a lesser moving violation would result in no points and a fifty-to-one hundred dollar fine.  All of my Perry Mason airs went the way of the dodo, and the manila envelope of photographs seemed superfluous.  For less money than I've paid for certain epic bar tabs, this whole thing could go away.  I chose the plea deal.  After everybody had made their determination, the courtroom was opened and we filed in.

My one beef with the process is that an attorney representing several clients was given precedence over the schmoes like me who were there on our own behalf.  When I was finally called, the process was lickety-split:

"Mr _________, do you plead guilty?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr _________, can you pay the fine today?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr _________, you may pay the cashier across the hall."

"Very well, Your Honor."

The whole process took less than half an hour.  After paying the cash to cover the fine, I was free to go, license points free, wallet slightly lighter.  Being somewhat overdressed for an August day off, I decided to go straight home, with one detour to purchase some salumi to make a bigass sammich for lunch.  Upon arriving home, I joked with my upstairs neighbor how I'm no longer a desperado after my day in court.

It was a learning experience, I hadn't been in an actual courtroom in twenty-five years (I beat that ticket, the responding officer didn't show up).  I don't plan on repeating the experience- not any time soon, at any rate... maybe in another twenty-five years.


3 comments:

bluzdude said...

I feel for you. If I'd done all that prep, I'd certainly want to display it to SOMEBODY... I supposed it wouldn't be proper to request an impromptu edition of "Moot Court."

The New York Crank said...

There used to be a vaudeville comedy act called "Pay the two dollars," in which somebody keeps trying to fight a traffic ticket and ends up in a real mess because he doesn't want to pay a two dollar fine.

Pay the two dollars or these days, pay the hundred dollars, turns out to be a pretty sound principle for ending the case and going on with life. Alas, it doesn't have much to do with justice.

Yours crankily,
The New York Crank

Big Bad Bald Bastard said...

I just wanted to get out of there without any lingering effect on my license, and more importantly, my insurance. This was a 'Bastard don't be a hero' moment.