Part II (Scroll Down for Part I)
So a took my lunch break to head to the police station to pay my $25 seatbelt ticket. Police stations always have interesting people hanging about, and Myrtle Beach's is no different. I fought my way through a tight knot of people. I believe only one of them had an "issue" with the police department, but they apparently brought the whole family.
Little girls to young to be left alone were running around by themselves under the breeze way.
I made my way to the clerk that processed the fines, and I was greeted by a large sign.
Now accepting Visa and Mastercard.
Sweet. It's like McDonald's. Lucky me, because I never carry cash.
So, I gave my light blue ticket to the dome-haired lady behind the glass partion along with my VISA check card.
She handed me the total to sign for. It was $26.48.
Hmmm.
It's a $25 ticket? I asked her what the extra $1.48 was for. Taxes? It couldn't be.
"We charge you a dollar processing fee. Plus a percentage of the cost of the fine."
I smile inwardly, thinking back to an article I had just previously read about business unlawfully collecting extra fees when running cards, bank or credit.
That's right folks. According to VISA and MASTERCARD's own websites, it is not their policy to allow businesses to process extra fees. In fact, if you file a complaint, they will put a stop to the offending business from processing any of their cards in the future.
I explained this to the nice lady. She simply said, "Do you want to pay for it or not?"
I did. Extra fee and all.
Then promptly went home and filed a complaint. So we'll see.
The last people you should have to tell to follow the rules and obey the law are police officers. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside that I was able to direct them to the path of righteousness.
A Trip to the Police Station
Prologue:
I was at work fighting a wicked sore throat, when I decided that I needed to visit a medical practioner immediately. After all, I couldn't spend the weekend bedridden. So out the door I went...
Flash forward to bank row. I was travelling at the law-abiding posted speed limit when suddenly a police car whipped in behind me. I held my breath as prey sometimes does when being pursued. Then the blue lights came on and I was caught.
I pulled into the Coastal Federal parking lot and was promptly reprimanded by what looked like a 19-year-old boy. He was wearing a police uniform with utility belt so I decided to wait politely to see what he had to say.
"You have any idea why I pulled you?"
I thought perhaps he wanted me to buy him beer, but I just sickly shuck my head.
The young man patted me on the shoulder where my life saving vehicle harnass should have been (a.k.a seat belt).
"You're not wearing your seat belt."
I stared, blinked. Tried to gather moisture in my mouth to speak. Before I could say anything the young man was back in his car, probably diligently running my license number for priors.
I hadn't had a ticket in 7 years. I've only had 1 ticket since I got my driver's license. It's only a seat belt ticket. Surely he'll just write me a warning.
Surely.
Nope. The young man, after handing me my light blue traffic violation slip, yet again patted me on the shoulder.
"Make sure you wear your selt beat from now on, alright?"
He waited.
"Sure."
And he was off. And so was I, grinding my teeth all the way to the doctor's office.
And as a side note, when I got there, I discoverd I didn't have my insurance card so I couldn't see anybody. I went back to work without a perscription for a throat remedy and a nice blue ticket courtesy of the city of Myrtle Beach and a 19-year-old boy playing cop.
NEXT INSTALLMENT: What I discovered at the Police Station (Hint: It has something to do with breaking the law).
