East Baton Rouge Parish Courthouse = Chinese Fire Drill

Okay, so I got caught daydreaming in February. I was driving 45 through a school zone, and before I realized it, an East Baton Rouge Sherriff's deputy was standing in the road in front of me, waving his arms violently and directing me to pull over. So...I got a nice little $112.50 ticket for going 45 in a 35.

I went to pay my fine yesterday, since today was the deadline. Well, if you know anything about downtown Baton Rouge, you're aware that there are pathetically few parking spaces available. As I was driving around in circles looking for a parking spot, the sky went from cloudy to torrential rain in less than a minute.

I finally found a parking spot in one of the many "public parking lots" downtown. This one had a new-fangled electronic payment kiosk which accepts your hard-earned cash in exchange for the privilege of parking in a pockmarked, weed-infested, garbage-strewn "parking lot".

I opened my umbrella and stepped out of my truck...into akle deep water...and slogged to the payment kiosk, where I discovered the "flat rate" was $5.00 for the first hour (!!). I was just about to insert a $20.00 when I noticed the hand-written note taped to the kiosk stating, "This machine does not give change". So...without paying, I shrugged my shoulders and trudged off towards the courthouse.

After reaching the second floor of the courthouse and finding the appropriate department, I found myself at the end of a long line of miserable-looking, half-drowned people waiting to pay their fines. A half-hour later, it was finally my turn! I handed the "cashier" my ticket, which she promptly handed back to me. We stood there looking at each other for a few awkward seconds before she informed me that I had to first go to the 10th floor and have myself removed from tomorrow's court docket before she could accept payment for the ticket... Off to the elevators I went.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out onto the 10th floor and began the search for the appropriate department. After finding it, I opened the door and immediately found myself at the end of another long line consisting of many of the same miserable-looking, half-drowned people I had stood in line with on the 2nd floor!

Another half-hour later, it was my turn! I handed the friendly City-Parish employee my ticket, which she placed on the counter as, in a lazy monotone voice, she went through the motions of explaining what was happening and what my options were. Her last statement was, "After you pay the ticket, you gotta bring me back the yellow ticket". In my mind, I responded with, "Are you F**KING kidding me?!?!?!?". In reality, I grimaced, took the paperwork she gave me and walked away silently, headed back to the 2nd floor. Again.

So, after reaching the second floor (again), I found myself in the same long line (again) with the same group of miserable-looking people I had been following since I got to the courthouse. At this point, we had all basically lost the will to live and had resigned ourselves to this never-ending back-and-forth trek; time had lost all meaning. Sometime later, I was handing the "cashier" my money and paperwork (again).

She handed me my copies and reminded me to go back to the 10th floor (again) to return the "yellow ticket". Off to the elevators (again)!

...back on the 10th floor (again)...back in line (again). I noticed that, by this time, most of us had dried out, our clothes becoming shrunken, ill-fitting and wrinkled...waiting...waiting...to...hand...the...friendly...City-Parish employee...my..."yellow ticket"...

...now I'm at the window (again), handing her my "yellow ticket". She chuckles and informs me that it wasn't necessary to wait in line just to hand her my "yellow ticket". Again, in my mind, I responded with, "Are you F**KING kidding?!?!?!?" Again, in reality, I grimaced and walked away silently, headed back to the elevators. The ordeal was finally over. I was free from the maze. I wanted to live! I wanted to see the sunshine!

In the elevator, I instinctively pushed the 2nd floor button and, when the doors opened, I instinctively assumed my place at the end of the line. It was only after realizing that the line consisted of a completely different group of miserable-looking, half-drowned schmucks that I snapped back to reality. I smiled to myself, spun on my heel, and schlepped out of the courthouse.

It was then that I remembered I had parked without paying!! Oh crap!! Now, I was jogging down the wet sidewalk praying that my truck hadn't been towed.

Finally, I rounded the last corner, and...there it was! My truck hadn't been towed, and I had never been so glad to see it. So I sat there in my truck for a few minutes, letting the cold A/C dry the sweat on my face...

Note to Self: Next time you get a speeding ticket (God forbid!), pay it through the mail!!