Fight the powers that be

More proof that I am not normal:

I got a ticket for parking at an expired meter. I decided to contest it. There were three obstacles: 1) The officer made no error on the citation. 2) The meter was working properly. 3) I was guilty.

The first thing to do was to control as many variables as possible. I was given a choice of venues, dates and times, so I chose what would be most favorable (if not convenient). That took a little detective work and deductive reasoning.

The next was to know the rules of the game. Though I was going to district court, petty misdemeanors do not go before a judge and one is not sworn in, so one can lie to one's heart's content without committing perjury. And lie I would. I would make lying an art form. There is no prosecutor; the officer of the court who hears the case has nothing to win or lose, as long as the number of people who are let go stays within certain limits and this was the most trivial of offenses, so of least importance to him.

I came up with two strategies and would choose which one to use after I saw my adversary who did not think he was my adversary.

When my name was called, he gave me the once-over. I appeared calm, confident and cheerful. No point in letting him know I was prepared to eviscerate him, if necessary. He had a ton of experience, whereas I was new, and the meeting was in his office, so he had home field advantage.

I said, "It's ironic, but the reason I parked in front of the library was because I was wrongly accused of having an overdue library book." He saw the irony and smiled. I was half-way home. He wanted me to win. While I said this, I took in the office for clues as to which tack to take. He had a poster of amateur wrestling; not a good sign, but wrestling has rules and this was a knife fight. He had a photo of his motorcycle (Harley). He had a fresh manicure. Plan A would work.

I pretended to be a hypervigilant anal-retentive type-A personality who lived in terror of ever making a mistake. If you know my real personality, you probably would've paid to see this performance. I simply could not have been in error; I offered no explanation, just let him decide for himself what possible reason could make me right. Then I suggested that I planned on paying the ticket, had my checkbook ready, but I was simply morally against pleading guilty to something I didn't do.

I won. Take that, justice.