Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Law Enforcement of Los Angeles

Let's be clear for all you deciding to come out to sunny Cali...police don't give a flying fuck about you unless you can generate them revenue.

I was pulled over in Encino a few months back for a driver's license that didn't have my current address and a brake light that was out. Total cost to me: $50. Big deal. I wanted to throw the dough at the cop and tell him to stop wasting my time. Nope. Now I had to clear this with the lovely Department of Motor Vehicles. This dreaded combination of words, if you live in Los Angeles, might as well be the deportation line in Juarez. A horrible smash up of humanity. Oh, and I'm sure the cops were having a great laugh over me having to deal with them. Didn't take them but a few swipes of a pencil to essentially put me in a unsupervised prison which is dealing with "the system."

I thought I'd sidestep sometime and just go, at least, get a part of it signed off, as I'd fixed my brake light. When I got the Highway Patrol, an older officer was behind the window.
"Help ya'?" God, I thought, this fucking isn't going to go well.
"Yeah, I just wanted to get this one thing signed off" I gave him my citation form.
"you tell the DMV about your address change?" Should I lie.
"no, I just wanted to do this in parts"
He paused. Like I'd shat on his birthday cake "how'm I gonna sign off on it, if you didn't get that fixed?"
Aw, fuck I just wasted a 10 mile trek to Woodland Hills. My first thought "man...the colored man can't get a break." Then I just took my citation, glared at him and left. Dumb palooka.

Anyhow, I did the responsible thing of making an appointment at the DMV. Take note people...make an appointment!!! Taking a number at the DMV is ...well people can die in the lobby. Obviously, we can't plan for most things, and I preferred doing this over the phone or internet. But...nope. In fact, I sent a handwritten letter to the DMV in Sacramento begging for them to send me a DL43 I.D. card to tell them I'd changed my address, and to mail me back the card on the SELF ADDRESS STAMPED ENVELOPE. This would take...a total of 10 seconds on their part. That was months ago, haven't heard back from those assholes.

Anyway, so I get to the DMV early. No one was in the appointment line. Man, the wall of people there are fucking retarded. MAKE AN APPOINTMENT. Then I talked to the lady behind the counter.
"Hey, I'm early (40 minutes), I just need to confirm my address was changed. My appointment was at 3:10PM"
"Come back at 3:00"
"Can I at least ask you a question?" she looked up, bothered.
I continued "I just need to confirm my address. You can do that?"
"Yes, at 3 o' clock."
Was that so fucking hard, you fucking government cunt?
I stepped back and went away to a nearby Little Caesars to get some wings to calm my nerves.
Then I sat in my car and read a book until 3 o'clock.
At 3, I went back.
It was a different face this time. The one face everyone HATES at the DMV. A large Black woman. Looked like Shirley from "What's Happening?" Uh-oh, you say...yeah, you're not wrong.
I slowly walked up to the counter.
"Um...I have an appointment."
It was all business "What time is yer appointment?"
"It's 3:10 but I was told--"
"Come back at 3:10 then." That door was closed. No discussion.
I took my form and waited for the next ten minutes. Fuming at this cunt.
At 3:10 I came back.
"What time is yer appointment?" Bitch, I was here ten minutes ago. You almost think they're doing this to see what you'd do.
"3:10" I said through gritted teeth.
"What can I do for you?"
"I just need you to confirm my address. I had it changed and need to confirm it"
She looked up at me, just her eyes, couldn't even bother to move her fat neck "we don't do that, young man (I am clearly older than her), see now ya' holdin' up the line."
I wanted to strangle her and the woman who told me that this is where I could confirm my address.
"But I'm gonna do this. Step aside for a second." Why isn't there more DMV employees murdered is beyond me. She went ahead and signed off on a few more people before she got back to me. And then she gave me a DL43 address change card, and I bolted out of there.
"You have a nice day, now dear." Yeah right.
I decided to get this over with the Highway Patrol. I went back to Woodland Hills.
Behind the counter this time was a young officer. He was on his cell. Talking to what sounded to be his girlfriend. This guy might as well be Central Casting for what a cop looked like.
"yeah, baby, I told you you need to...oh he was in that? She's auditioning for what?" Great, a cop whose girlfriend was an actress.
I slid my citation to him. He peered at it. Then just walked out the door, still chatting on the phone. I raced after, assuming I suppose to follow. I got to my car.
He pulled the phone away from his mouth "turn on your lights"
I did. He looked at the front.
"hit the brakes." Checked that.
He moseyed back to the building. Again I raced after. He never once put down his phone. Behind the counter, he stamped the citation...cleared. I asked him about the change of address thing. He waved it off. "Just mail this into the court." And he disappeared to the backroom. NEVER...and I mean NEVER putting down his cell for a second.
Now what was it that this young cat did that the old fart the first time didn't? That's right, I'm wasting his precious time. The old fuck could hassle me for ages. What's he got, besides a wife that won't fuck him and kids that hate his guts but still take college tuition money. The young pig just wanted to go back to talking to future ex-wife.
I took my citation and got out of there.
What did this really costs me? I don't want to add it up. It would make me sick. And hate cops more.
SO when you come out to Los Angeles, remember a few things, law enforcement don't give a flying fuck about you unless you can make them money, or that your death would embarrass them. Otherwise, you're on your own.

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