So, here are the salient details.

Last week, I was booked. Booked, in this case, means that everyday I went to work and every night I had plans. Mondays and Wednesday nights I commute 40 minutes into Kenosha directly from work to teach stage combat to high school kids. Tuesday and Thursday nights, I commute 40 minutes into Racine to learn Tae Kwon Do… sometimes also from high school kids. Saturday mornings I have been commuting into Chicago to help out with fight choreography for a pre-show brawl for The Merchant of Venice. Add to this my Wednesday dinner plans (after teaching) with my father, a weekend trip to Eau Claire (4 hours drive minimum) directly after work in Chicago, and an overnight stay on Friday to facilitate early arrival in Chicago and you begin to understand what I mean by “booked.”

Some people find my schedule to be a bit silly. Those people are right. Still, despite some small setbacks, I was sticking to it as much as possible, squeezing in as much quiet time as I could (though, to my lovely girlfriend’s chagrin, more with World of Warcraft than with her this week).

Then, Saturday, I got booked. Booked, in this case, means that due to expired vehicle registration with the state of WI, I was pulled over twice within the span of five minutes. First, I was cited, then I was arrested. Evidently, there was a warrant for my arrest that could only be served in Racine or Oak Creek counties. So, when the first state trooper pulled me over, they could not tell me that I was a wanted man, nor could they arrest me, as I was not yet in the correct counties. Then, when the second trooper – in a twist of extreme bad luck which friends of mine know could only happpen to me – pulled me over for the same problem not five minutes later, even my citation could not save me as he was required to then serve the warrant.

The trooper was quite kind, all things considered. He explained that my options (due to my having a previous ticket for unregistered plates) were to pay the bond at a substation immediately or he would have to take me to the county jail. Romantic as the latter sounded, I chose the former. The officer was forced to search me, and mentioned offhandedly that he was not going to cuff me (no pun intended) before letting me get into the back of the patrol car.

The substation could only accept exact change, so he then drove me to a gas station so I could use the ATM and then buy a soda to get some coins. We chatted casually about life as a highway patrolman (mostly initiated by questions from me*) and took care of business.

Needless to say, I had an excellent excuse for bailing out of my Eau Claire trip, but I did not feel any less guilty. Sorry, Andy and Jill. I can only hope that sometime in the near future, I will have an open weekend again and we can take you up on the pulled pork. Fresh stuff, though; no need to save what you made this time.

* – After all, the man was just doing his job. I was the one who let the stupid thing lapse. This may be why I have such a constant police presence in my life, despite mostly conforming to the law.

For one thing, I have difficulty with silly administrative tasks. Yes, I understand that registration is important for protection of the citizenry and helps in the capture of criminals, and I know that it costs money to run these types of administrations so fees must be assessed. I just find it annoying. I have more important things to remember

Second, I seem to have a good rapport with police and security people. I get pulled over with an alarming frequency – typically for fix-it tickets or adminstrative things; I have only one speeding ticket in 12 years – and while I am cited at about a 50% rate, the officers usually seem in good spirits while dealing with me. I try to keep in mind that they are human beings, and I am actually at fault. Still, I wish they would leave me alone. Maybe I could get some sort of frequent detainee mileage…