Fugitive Status: NOT

PHOTO: Not me, today.

Hell, there wasn't even an arrest warrant for me. Unfortunately, that put me in the "non-desperado" class, unworthy of tender mercy, and thus I was dispatched to many buses and many miles of walking all over this fucking town to have the privilege of standing in a line (no sitting -- standing only!) for 1 hour, 45 minutes, to clear up my license status.

And still it's not over. I still have to have a new license made.

I'll come back and back-fill all this, in a while, since as my stories go, this one's pretty good. But for now, I have to go install my Shad 29, while there's still light outside.

UPDATE: Screw the Shad. I'll put that on, tomorrow. I'm too tired to crouch in the parking lot, tonight.

THE EXCELLENT FUGITIVE ADVENTURE!

Okay, I slept in, just a bit. The church didn't open until 9:00, so it's all good.

However, due to my unfamiliarity with Bordeaux, I didn't arrive there until 9:35. No big deal. I was Would-Be-Fugitive #204 (they had 92 people on Wednesday, and 92 people on Thursday who turned themselves in, so there could only be, what, 19 people ahead of me?). Coming in, I emptied my pockets and did the metal detector dance, then I filled out some forms, and was asked to have a seat until they could locate my warrant(s).

At 10:20, a big, burly cop-lookin' guy called my name. I waved, and he came over, smiling, broadly. He introduced himself as an officer with the Metro Police (gee, the Glock and the badge weren't quite a tip-off), and had a seat beside me.

"Mr. Prestonian, what brings you here, today?"

"Oh, I missed a court date back in December, 2005, for no proof of insurance, expired tags..."

He interjected, "Traffic warrants. Yeah... I'm sorry. We're not doing those, here. Wish I could help ya, but the good news is, you can go downtown and take care of this, today, without any further trouble. There's no warrants out for your arrest. You're not even a blip on our radar."

"Not even a failure-to-appear?"

"Nope. Now, keep in mind, you don't wanna be caught driving until you resolve this, 'cause your license HAS been suspended, but once you pay the court, and take the paperwork to the Department of Safety, you're right as rain. Here's the addresses and phone numbers... yadda-yadda... do you have any other questions? Here, let me escort you out..."

And I was on my way.

Buses, buses, buses... walking, walking, walking...

In the end, I paid $1252 to the Davidson County Court Traffic Warrants Division, and then set out across town to the Tennessee Department of Safety, to show them proof that the outstanding citations had been fully satisfied.

This entailed standing in line for one hour and forty-five minutes. 1:45, people.

At least at the end of that, I had the requisite paperwork that would allow me to reinstate my license (which is, of course, another trip to another location on another day). And since I feel cocky, I will ride the scooter to that location, since it's just a few miles from home, and not at all served by the MTA bus system!

So, 10 hours later, it's lookin' pretty good.
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