Can you believe that the photographer who took this terrible, underexposed, badly framed photo of my car charged me $50 for it and is threatening legal action if I don’t pay? This is because the photographer is the New York City Department of Transportation and I earned the privilege of a $50 photoshoot when I quickly drove past a speed camera. But I’m not just some vigilante who recklessly speeds through the town—I had reasons.
I was in New York two weeks ago for my uncle’s funeral, who unexpectedly passed away. Although I’ve had people close to me pass away in the last two decades, I haven’t been to a funeral since 2007 because I don’t do well at them, and they have long-term negative effects on me. Despite that, this funeral was one that I couldn’t skip, but the challenge was that I had things that I couldn’t reschedule both before and after the funeral. As a result, I had to swiftly–but safely–travel to and from New York.
There was traffic for almost every mile of the 2.5-hour, 55-mile journey, but then I finally caught a break when I traveled down a street that was completely clear. I accelerated the car to 38 miles per hour, and then all of a sudden, I saw a flash that was as bright as the light from the neuralyzer in Men In Black. I quickly pressed the brakes and looked all around me to see if I was being flash-bombed, but then I remembered the existence of speed cameras. The damage was done at this point and there was nothing that I could do to reverse my unwise decision. But I was hopeful that the person who monitored the speed cameras would be lenient and not send me that ticket if they saw that I drove 25 mph for the rest of the day.
After I left the funeral, I headed to my next scheduled appointment and was committed to driving 25 mph until I left the state. As I turned onto Ocean Parkway, I assumed that the speed limit was at least 50 mph, because what kind of parkway has a 25 mph speed limit? Well, within seconds of traveling 42 mph down the middle lane, I saw another neuralyzer flash and quickly found out that Ocean Parkway has a 25 mph speed limit. I quickly pressed my brakes, checked for flash bombs, confirmed that I was caught again and realized that there was no way that the speed camera monitor person would show leniency now. At this point, it was clear that I was going to get tickets, and there was no way out of it.
Both tickets came in the mail yesterday, and I discovered that I am now the ashamed owner of $100 worth of photos of my car. Since I paid so much money for my foolish mistakes, I might as well make the most of my purchase. I plan on framing both photos, displaying them in my house like museum pieces, and giving them a name like “The Plight of Impatience.”
I’m never speeding again. Probably.