How Throwing a Tantrum got me out of a Ticket

The MMDA Officer waved at me to pull over just as I was about to turn left on the intersection of Ayala and EDSA.

What now I asked myself as the grossly overweight, so-called enforcer of the law lumbered up to my window.

“What’s the problem officer?” I asked.

“Sir, you committed a traffic violation,” said the officer helpfully. He towered over the mini-SUV I was driving, and he spoke with a raspy gutteral voice which he uses to mumble his words. Trying to understand what he says is not unlike divining meaning from the growling of the neighbor’s ill-tempered dog.

“What?!” I said as I made an effort to sit as closer as to hear him better.

“Sir, you committed a traffic violation,” he said in his mumble-speak. “You were driving in the yellow lane and then you swerved out of the yellow lane when you saw me.”

“But I’m about to turn left on this corner,” I tried to explain to him. “I understand that you can enter the yellow lane if you’re going to turn left in this corner. Also, I was avoiding this heavy thing blocking my path so I had to swerve out again.” I decided not to mention the fact that he was the heavy thing blocking my path.

“But sir, you got into the lane too soon. You can’t do that,” he replied while spraying me with some of his spittle. He then pointed to the spot where I should have entered the yellow lane.

“If I were to enter at that point, I’d be swerving! The reason why I entered the yellow lane in the first place was because I didn’t want to swerve!” I explained, irritation creeping into my voice.

“But that’s where you’re supposed to turn,” he slobbered.

He explained that I need to go to Makati to get my license, as well as attend a four-day seminar to which I replied that I can’t waste four days because I’ve got work. We went back and forth for the next few minutes, neither of us giving ground. At no point during our exchange did I understand 100% of what he was saying.

Finally he asked for my license. Since I was resigned to the fact that there would be no reasoning with him, I gave it to him.

With my license in his possession, I expected to be done with the whole incident as soon as possible. But judging by the way he was working, he was getting paid by every minute he delays motorists.

He went to the back of my vehicle, apparently to take down my license plate. Then went back to me to say something totally lame like “My, you have a long name sir.” He did that a couple more times–go to the back of my car, make lame attempts at friendly conversation (“So where are you going?, ” “Where do you work?”)–all of which were met with monosyllabic grunts from me as I was quickly losing my temper.

I don’t know how many more times he did this as I decided at this point that it was a good idea to just let him do what he wants to do and simply ignore him. Some time passed until I realized he was standing once again beside me, apparently waiting for me to speak.

“WHAT?!” I exploded. To hell with keeping my temper in check. To hell with yelling at a traffic enforcer. I’ve had it. This guy was wasting my time, and I couldn’t see the point of taking this long just to write up a traffic ticket.

“So do you want me to give you a ticket?”

“What the hell are you asking me for?!”

“Sir, I think you’re getting mad,” he said, taking himself down a notch.

“OF COURSE I’M GETTING MAD! I’VE HAD A VERY BAD DAY, YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME, AND NO AMOUNT OF EXPLAINING CAN MAKE YOU SEE MY POINT! SO JUST GIVE ME THE TICKET SO I CAN LEAVE!”

He blinked blankly at me then handed me back my license and registration.

I was taken aback. “What does this mean? You’re not giving me a ticket?”

“Well, I was asking you if you still wanted me to give you a ticket.” WHAT?!

“Huh?”

“You should have told me from the start that you had a bad day–your mind was preoccupied, and you didn’t know what you were doing. I would have let you go right away,” he said meekly.

“O-okay. So I can go now?” I asked, coming down from my temper rant.

“You can go now,” came the quiet reply.

Then I drove away wondering what the hell just happened.