¶ 2004-08-19 07:29:00 +0000
I am very proud of my criminal record.
What I mean is, I am proud of my lack of a criminal record. Specifically, I am pleased with the fact that I have never received a citation, ticket or the like for a traffic violation. Iʼve never even been pulled over by the police, ever.
What I mean is, Iʼve never received a ticket for a traffic violation on this continent. I would say in this hemisphere (because that sounds more impressive), but I was barely west of the Prime Meridian at the time, so that wouldnʼt be true; and of course, the particular violation I have in mind canʼt be tracked back to me anyway.
So in theory, I am an international fugitive. But in reality, I payed the ticket and got on with my life.
This isnʼt a picture of the car I was driving, but it is the same model, so you can have an idea. I was on exchanges with a member of the ward in Selsdon, on the outskirts of south London. We were trying to find the location of an address we had, and the member was giving me directions. The member knew the city quite well; he was a bus driver by trade.
We were sitting at a red light, when my navigator suddenly turned to me and said, “Oh, weʼre in a bus-only lane!”
“Well, thatʼs wonderful,” I replied in sarcasm.
Twenty silent seconds later, the copilot pointed at what appeared to be a amppost on the other side of the intersection and said, “Look, thereʼs a traffic camera!”
“Well, thatʼs wonderful.” We waved.
Two weeks later, we received a telephone call from the mission office, letting us know that there was a ticket coming in the mail for us and one of us (there were four missionaries in the apartment) needed to pay it. The date, time and location of the violation were printed on the ticket, but so much time had passed that it took me two days to realize that this was the outcome of my little joyride with the bus driver.