Dear George Bush

Ok, I know we don't talk much. You don't really know me from Adam and I kinda think you're a dumbass. However, I've come across a troubling situation, and well.. I'd like to ask for your help. It won't be a tough request for you to handle -- in fact it seems like something you already kinda want to do to ..er for this country. It's just that up until today I thought it was a really bad idea.
Strange how opinions change, eh?
What I'm talking about here is outsourcing.

I'm talking about clearing the roads and giving big business a corner to cut. I'm talking about opening up the floodgates and taking jobs and income away from Americans and their families. Normally I would be really against this. Normally I'm a big proponent of giving people in this country the chance to prove themselves, of improving educational standards and job training resources so that people can get the skills they need to grow with industry and provide the innovations that help make this country great.
But sometimes you just have to wake up, see
things for what they are, and make the change.
And that's why I'm asking you to put your cronies to work and get this done. Because something has to be done. And so I say outsource.
Outsource the fuck out of the DMV and the county traffic court system.
Hire anybody you want. Get Hezbollah on the phone if you want, I don't care. Just please, please, please take it out the hands of the fucktards who are running it now.

Maybe some background would help to understand the situation. See a while back I was hanging out with friends and having fun, when closing time rolled around and I decided to drive home. I took the same route I always take, including a left turn onto a a road called College street. It's a one-way road that after a certain hour is overseen by a flashing red traffic light, and not much else. And so, like a lot of people in my neighborhood at that hour (when there isn't a pedestrian in sight) I didn't so much stop cold at the College Street light as much as I just sorta rolled through it on my way home.

Had I known there was a cop parked on the other side of the corner, I probably wouldn't have done it -- but hey, these things happen.

Make no mistake here -- I ran that light. I broke that law. The cop gave me a ticket and there was little I could do to argue with it. Unfortunately he also gave me another ticket informing me that I was driving on a suspended license (which was news to me). Something about the insurance lapsing after the separation, and my name still being on the policy at the time. Not happy news by any means, but whatever.

So two days later I go to pay these things, which of course means standing in the cattle lines and waiting your turn forever only to find out that the place I was at didn't handle tickets like this, I would have to go somewhere else. So I drive across town, pay one ticket and then hear that I can't pay the other one yet, because the officer didn't fill out the form correctly and the girl behind the counter didn't have all the information she needed to process the fine - call back in a couple of weeks.

So a couple of weeks go by and I call the people and they give me a court date to attend a month after that. I asked if there was just a fine I could pay or something but no -- I gotta see the judge.
Problem is, I wrote down the wrong day.
So I realize my screwup and feel bad about it as I tell the story to the girl at the traffic court. She doesn't seem to care one way or the other and gives me a sheet of paper that says Room #346 before loudly announcing "Next customer" and shuffling me off.

It took about four phone calls to figure out where Room 346 was, including an automated phone voice that says "for all other inquiries press 5" -- which I do, only to be connected to the same voice saying "if you have other inquiries, hang up and dial this other number."

Now all of these little hassles are bothersome -- but it's impossible to ignore the fact that a lot of this mess was really my fault. I ran the red light, I had the SNAFU with the insurance company, and I messed up writing down the court date. Where I come from, getting the runaround from an automated phone system after all of that is something we call karma. Frustrating at the moment, but probably well-deserved after all my misgivings.

But this morning I go to the courthouse downtown (nesting place of Room 346) to find an office with a desk in the front held by a receptionist playing computer solitaire and a room in the back where the Judge does her work. They take my paperwork and tell me to sit outside. There are empty chairs in the office, so it doesn't make much sense, but I do as I am told. 20 minutes later solitaire girl comes out and says I can talk to the judge. I walk in and the judge hands me back my same paperwork and says that I have a new court date set for 2 weeks from now and that a warrant has been issued for my arrest.
"What's the charge?" I ask.
"Failure to appear before a judge."
This Mr. President -- is where things start to unravel.

I don't know -- maybe other people think differently, but in situations like this, my logic nerve kicks in. Apparently this isn't something that happens very often in county traffic court, or at the very least to this particular judge. Because she seemed really thrown off when I asked her "which judge?"
She thought for a moment and then said, "Well.. me."
"Ok," I said, "I'm here now."
"Yes, but your court date is in two weeks."
"Sure, but we're both here now."
There was no answer. I tried a different approach:
"Well what happens if someone serves me this warrant?"
"You'll be arrested and then brought before me"
"You."
"Yes, Me."
"You that's standing right in front of me, you?"
"That's correct."
This goes on for like 5 minutes.

At one point I motioned to the cop who is stationed in the hall and said "you mean that this policeman could arrest me right now based off this warrant you issued?" She nods yes. "And then what?"
"He'd bring you before me."
I actually entertained the thought of surrendering myself to the officer so that he could.. bring me back across the hall to her, but in my experience cops are rarely the sporting type, so I kept the idea to myself. But the cop did offer a piece of helpful advice, telling me to just "lay low and stay out of the path of anyone in a police uniform."

So basically I went and saw a judge who told me that she had issued a warrant so that I would come and see her, and then a cop told me that if I avoid cops everything would be ok.
And so now I guess I'm.. on the lam?
[Listening to: We Are Scientists, "The Method"]

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