Freaky Friday, or more like, freaked-OUT Friday, is what yesterday must have been.
I can feel the horror of a long, hard traveled road coming to an end, and instead of dying peacefully, it has to kick and spit blood in my face, right to the very end.
Anxiety, or anxiousness at the inevitable end of my life with Bridget is overbearing at this point. It's like a long prison sentence nearing it's end and I can't sleep at night, knowing those iron gates are close to closing behind me permanently, but the last leg of this time served is becoming the roughest yet.
And it's all about the one thing that the bulk of our problems has been at the core of; Finances! Money, and the never ending lack of it.
In June, when the landlord, Steve, came to collect the rent, I didn't have all of it, and I explained to him that the next few months were going to be rough and that I'd probably be late through the end of August. He gladly agreed to work with me, and that he understood.
God I hate a liar.
After much harassment and many threats from him, I did pay off the June rent, just in time for July to arrive. Yesterday, he came looking for money and I had none for him.
To backtrack a bit, on Wednesday, the phone was turned off, and the water company has been due to cut me off since the 30th of June, but miraculously, I've been spared, to date. Knowing I was in a jam, I asked my boss if he could loan me 500 bucks, which he unblinkingly said yes to.
I love my boss, man. He is one of the good ones, when he wants to be.
Wednesday, he left for the day, Thursday he told me that he would include it in my Friday paycheck and knowing I wouldn't have the rent, I was excited about catching up the phone, water, and with my raise that I'm expecting to kick in this week, the cable and Rent A Center.
As he handed out the checks, as we left for the day, he told me that he couldn't write the check for my loan, but he'd have it Monday. OK, it sucks, but I can live without a phone for a few more days, and the water's not getting shut off over the weekend. Then I looked and voila! No raise!.
And right as I got home and was in the middle of the endless fight that Bridget and I call communication, Steve showed up. So, I explained, I have no money this week and he started crying the blues about his bills and that he wasn't going to "carry me" anymore, so I lost it.
I told him that he should just go ahead and do what he needs to do, but on Monday, I'll be calling the Health Department to complain about the black mold in my bathroom that my children are exposed to, that he's known about for two years and has never lifted a finger to clean up. The next call, I told him would be to the building inspector so he can see the windows that are practically falling off the house, which I keep complaining about and the dead limb on the big tree in front that's ready to crash to the ground, that he ignores. The next call, I told him, would be to a lawyer to ask if he can legally kick me out when I'm only 10 days late with the rent. I mean, isn't that why I paid an extra month's deposit? In case shit like this happens?
So he stormed out, and returned a few minutes later with a poorly photocopied piece of paper demanding I pay up by the 16th or vacate.
I've played THAT game before so I have to laugh at his feeble attempt to try and come across as having legal precedence to give me a non-notarized, non-legal demand to vacate the premises.
Still, it's all just more stress on top of the mountain of the stuff I'm already buried under. But I still have to grin inside.
Because the prison gates are going to open for me, and freedom is at hand, if I can just make it to the next minute, the next hour, the next day and next week.
Showing posts with label Unfair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Unfair. Show all posts
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Unfairly Targeted
Ok. This is up for debate.
This is the series of events that created a complete change in almost every aspect of my life, courtesy of the Town of Tonawanda Police Department. (Tonawanda is a suburb of Buffalo, NY)
It started in 2002, when I was driving home from the SPCA with Daphne, the German Short Haired Pointer I had just adopted, and I had to cross through "The Town," as it's called.
So, I'm sitting at a stop light, waiting to make a left, and I see a cop coming down the road I'm going to turn on. The road I WAS on didn't go straight across, it jogged to the left.
So the light turns green, I make my left, and the lights go on, so I make the immediate right back onto my original street, and he pulls up behind me. He tells me I was doing 42 in a 30, in a school zone. Geez, I thought I was stopped, but in The Town, this is the game, and it's well known throughout the area that this is how it is, in The Town.
So I go to court, meet 12 other people, who all got the same ticket, from the same cop, in the same place, on the same day, take the offer for a Saturday in Driving School, have it reduced to the most expensive parking ticket ever, $112.00, and go on about my business.
Several moths later, back in The Town, I pull out of a parking lot, make a right and before I've gone one block, I'm pulled over. I'll call this guy, Cop #2, who tells me that in less than a block, in my Expedition, in the one place I use my cruise control on city streets, I was doing 52 in a 40.
So, I go to court and find out, I cannot go to school again, because you can only do that once, every 18 months, so, not able to afford a lawyer, and being stupidly naive, I plead guilty and pay the fine. Speeding Ticket #1.
Several months later, in another town, in the semi, pulling a full load, 45,000lbs, going into an S-curve, I get pulled over from a cop that was, ironically, sitting in his own driveway, and am told I was doing 47 in a 35.
Why is it always 12 miles over?
Again, because it's the same county, I stupidly pay the ticket. Ticket #2
Several months later, back in The Town, driving Bridget home at 2AM, under protest, btw, because of my fear of driving in The Town anyhow, cop #2 pulls me over again.
This time, I was doing 42 in a 30, in an S-curve, in my expedition, that even trying after the fact, I could not negotiate any faster than 28MPH.
So I argue my point with him, and he threatens me with jail, making me reconsider that arguing thing and I take the ticket.
We go to court, and I explain this entire thing to the prosecutor, who tells me, just go to school!!!
When I explained that it was still within 18 months of my last sacrificed Saturday, he says then just pay the fine or pay for a lawyer and a jury trial, neither of which I could afford.
Not realizing the implications, I just pay the fine. Ticket #3.
A month later, DMV sends me a letter telling me that my license is going to be revoked for 3 speeding tickets in 18 months.
I never knew that was a possibility.
Well, I hedged it and, owning my own semi, drove anyhow. I mean, I had a business to run.
Ironically, a drunk driver can get a special license allowing him to drive to and from work, but a truck driver, who depends on his license to eat, does not have that opportunity.
A month later, I get pulled into a scale in Missouri and they run my license, see it's revoked and shut me down.
I drove out of there after they closed, but the company I was leased to refused to load me, so in no time, I was forced to sell the truck back for what I owed on it.
Well, Bridget was pregnant and we needed to eat, so I got a job selling home improvements, knowing it was a lucrative way to be able to pay our bills, and of course, I got pulled over one day, on the way to a lead, and they towed my ride.
I went to court with a fist full of tickets, explained my situation to the prosecutor, who told me, GO TO SCHOOL!!!!! UGH! I begged this guy to help me get everything straightened out, and this was his response?
I got the car back, but I didn't have my license yet, because of a silly radar detector ticket , in a little tiny town in southern NY, that was holding it up.
But when you'd call there, you get an answering machine telling you to call back during court hours, on Saturday, between 2 and 4, and no one ever answered the phone then either.
Soon after that, Bridget moved to Peoria with our daughter and I made a few trips to get some our things down here. Mostly clothes.
One night, just getting back in Buffalo, I got pulled over, because I was ignorantly talking to her on the phone, by a NY State trooper.
I just forgot to put the damn hands free thing on.
Now I explained everything to this guy and he was cool, and let me go, but with a bunch of tickets that I never paid.
So here I am. No license, 3 years later, no car and bunch of tickets that I can't afford to pay.
When I lost the truck, I had no income for months, because sales isn't something you just go do. You actually have to learn some things, and I did and eventually did well, but was so buried in accrued bills that I never have been able to afford to pay my tickets.
Because of the lack of income, the landlord threw us out, less than 2 months behind on rent, with a 2 month old baby, put our things in the front yard the day we high tailed it to stay at my Mom's and didn't inform me of this until a week later, which by then was too late.
In essence, Tonawanda Police cost me everything I ever owned, my business, my house, my way of life and my living in my hometown.
Some of that sounds dramatic and I made the choice to do some of the things that I did, but none of this would have happened if it wasn't for the snowball effect of those trumped up tickets.
This is the series of events that created a complete change in almost every aspect of my life, courtesy of the Town of Tonawanda Police Department. (Tonawanda is a suburb of Buffalo, NY)
It started in 2002, when I was driving home from the SPCA with Daphne, the German Short Haired Pointer I had just adopted, and I had to cross through "The Town," as it's called.
So, I'm sitting at a stop light, waiting to make a left, and I see a cop coming down the road I'm going to turn on. The road I WAS on didn't go straight across, it jogged to the left.
So the light turns green, I make my left, and the lights go on, so I make the immediate right back onto my original street, and he pulls up behind me. He tells me I was doing 42 in a 30, in a school zone. Geez, I thought I was stopped, but in The Town, this is the game, and it's well known throughout the area that this is how it is, in The Town.
So I go to court, meet 12 other people, who all got the same ticket, from the same cop, in the same place, on the same day, take the offer for a Saturday in Driving School, have it reduced to the most expensive parking ticket ever, $112.00, and go on about my business.
Several moths later, back in The Town, I pull out of a parking lot, make a right and before I've gone one block, I'm pulled over. I'll call this guy, Cop #2, who tells me that in less than a block, in my Expedition, in the one place I use my cruise control on city streets, I was doing 52 in a 40.
So, I go to court and find out, I cannot go to school again, because you can only do that once, every 18 months, so, not able to afford a lawyer, and being stupidly naive, I plead guilty and pay the fine. Speeding Ticket #1.
Several months later, in another town, in the semi, pulling a full load, 45,000lbs, going into an S-curve, I get pulled over from a cop that was, ironically, sitting in his own driveway, and am told I was doing 47 in a 35.
Why is it always 12 miles over?
Again, because it's the same county, I stupidly pay the ticket. Ticket #2
Several months later, back in The Town, driving Bridget home at 2AM, under protest, btw, because of my fear of driving in The Town anyhow, cop #2 pulls me over again.
This time, I was doing 42 in a 30, in an S-curve, in my expedition, that even trying after the fact, I could not negotiate any faster than 28MPH.
So I argue my point with him, and he threatens me with jail, making me reconsider that arguing thing and I take the ticket.
We go to court, and I explain this entire thing to the prosecutor, who tells me, just go to school!!!
When I explained that it was still within 18 months of my last sacrificed Saturday, he says then just pay the fine or pay for a lawyer and a jury trial, neither of which I could afford.
Not realizing the implications, I just pay the fine. Ticket #3.
A month later, DMV sends me a letter telling me that my license is going to be revoked for 3 speeding tickets in 18 months.
I never knew that was a possibility.
Well, I hedged it and, owning my own semi, drove anyhow. I mean, I had a business to run.
Ironically, a drunk driver can get a special license allowing him to drive to and from work, but a truck driver, who depends on his license to eat, does not have that opportunity.
A month later, I get pulled into a scale in Missouri and they run my license, see it's revoked and shut me down.
I drove out of there after they closed, but the company I was leased to refused to load me, so in no time, I was forced to sell the truck back for what I owed on it.
Well, Bridget was pregnant and we needed to eat, so I got a job selling home improvements, knowing it was a lucrative way to be able to pay our bills, and of course, I got pulled over one day, on the way to a lead, and they towed my ride.
I went to court with a fist full of tickets, explained my situation to the prosecutor, who told me, GO TO SCHOOL!!!!! UGH! I begged this guy to help me get everything straightened out, and this was his response?
I got the car back, but I didn't have my license yet, because of a silly radar detector ticket , in a little tiny town in southern NY, that was holding it up.
But when you'd call there, you get an answering machine telling you to call back during court hours, on Saturday, between 2 and 4, and no one ever answered the phone then either.
Soon after that, Bridget moved to Peoria with our daughter and I made a few trips to get some our things down here. Mostly clothes.
One night, just getting back in Buffalo, I got pulled over, because I was ignorantly talking to her on the phone, by a NY State trooper.
I just forgot to put the damn hands free thing on.
Now I explained everything to this guy and he was cool, and let me go, but with a bunch of tickets that I never paid.
So here I am. No license, 3 years later, no car and bunch of tickets that I can't afford to pay.
When I lost the truck, I had no income for months, because sales isn't something you just go do. You actually have to learn some things, and I did and eventually did well, but was so buried in accrued bills that I never have been able to afford to pay my tickets.
Because of the lack of income, the landlord threw us out, less than 2 months behind on rent, with a 2 month old baby, put our things in the front yard the day we high tailed it to stay at my Mom's and didn't inform me of this until a week later, which by then was too late.
In essence, Tonawanda Police cost me everything I ever owned, my business, my house, my way of life and my living in my hometown.
Some of that sounds dramatic and I made the choice to do some of the things that I did, but none of this would have happened if it wasn't for the snowball effect of those trumped up tickets.
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