That's My Story

I KNOW YOU! – published Oct. 2005 – Western Outdoor News

So much for being a celebrity in town. I was told that after I got the award from the Mayor, “your life will change.” OK…hehehehe…I can live with that. A free taco now and then? The guy at the Pemex station will wash my windows when I pull up for gas? Well, so far nothing, but whatever. I wasn’t expecting anything. The award was nice.

Then, I got a traffic ticket the other night. I had clients in the car and we were laughing and telling fish stories. I wasn’t paying attention and wrongfully turned into a dark-deserted one-way street, literally into the headlights of a police officer riding on an ATV. AroooooooRowrrrr! Goes the siren. I pull over.

Now, this is hardly the first time I’ve ever had a ticket in Mexico. But I always deserved it for some knuckleheaded thing I did and the officers were always courteous and professional. Now, I had just pulled another “pendejada” (stooopid move…if you know the word “pendejo” you get my drift) and figured this would be short and sweet.

Not!

Instead, this short squat guy in full battle dress (with all the dangly stuff and special riding gloves and shiny whistles no doubt), goes Barney Fife on me! It was like getting arrested by “Mini Ponch” from the old CHP TV series. This guy had razor-creases in his pants. No one irons in Mexico! As I rolled down my window, he was livid and screaming in perfect English, “I know who you are! You live here in La Paz and I know you speak Spanish too. You better not make any F-ing jokes to me!”

What? I hadn’t even said “Buenas noches” to the guy! Where was this hostility coming from? Could this be retribution from the awards day when the entire police force in full-uniform had to stand at parade rest while the mayor and city council were giving long political speeches? These poor guys had to stand on the hot parade grounds in 100 degree sun. Was Barney Poncherello blaming me for the fact his brain got cooked under that black beret they were wearing?

He kept mumbling in English, “I know who you are! I know who you are!” The veins on his neck were bulging as if he was trying to restrain himself or his shorts were riding up on him. He wanted to know if I had drugs and alcohol and told him I don’t drink and that he was welcome to search the car and all of us in it. That seemed to make him madder and he looked at me and said again, “I know who you are! Give me your license.” The wise guy in me wanted to say, “If you know who I am, then why do you need to see the license?” Self –control got the better of me and I handed him the license.

“I knew it was you!” he said with some degree of smugness. He told me that he was going to give me an “infracion” (ticket) and that there wasn’t a thing I could do to reduce the $21 dollar fine. ( I would NEVER try to reduce a whopping $21 dollar ticket!). But he kept on about “This is a serious thing you did and the crime fits the punishment and it’s a big fine to teach me a lesson and by the way, I know who you are! ” OK, already, Barney.

Here’s where the lesson kicked in for “Living in Mexico 101.” He lobbed it my way before he rode off tight shorts and all. Apparently, if I paid within 40 hours, I get a “30 percent discount.” Can I get more if I paid sooner? “Don’t make jokes with me, Mister. I know who you are!” He revved his ATC and rode off. That was way too intense and I was sure I’d be staying up all night thinking about my whopping $21 dollar fine. But here’s where I learned another lesson. In Mexico if you’re a senior citizen, you get 50 percent discounts on traffic tickets. I sent my 68-year-old buddy to pay the fine for me. That cop might know who I was, but at the courthouse, they sure didn’t know my buddy! And no one asked for I.D!

I think I will keep a lower profile. Just what I need is Mexican police officers thinking they know me. So much for minor celebrityhood in La Paz. Autograph anyone?

That’s my story….

Jonathan