Andrew J. Lederer

Maybe 1, 1:30 AM, Thursday night/Friday morning, I'm on a train that's stopped at the (great) Atlantic and Pacific station and a cop asks me to come with him.

He walks me off the train and we start down the platform. There's another ordinary guy walking with us, I think.

I ask him what this is for.

He doesn't answer me at first, which makes me angry. Finally, he says it's for putting my foot on a seat.

Well, I've been very aware of the city's propensity to ticket for offenses like that, so I'm very careful not to do it. When I'm on trains that have seats perpendicular to the wall, I like to sit in the seat closest to the window, with my legs crossed in the small space between the perpendicular seats and the neighboring seats, which are flush against the wall. And when I do this, the top of my shoe generally makes contact with the side of the flush seat in front of me.

Sometimes my shoelace or a tiny piece of the top of my shoe angles onto the edge of the seat itself. But no right-thinking person could call that putting my shoe/foot on the seat.

I told this to the officer, who processed it silently. (I know I just shifted into past tense -- we'll just have to learn to live with it.) He walked me to a bench where a phalanx of officers (I hope I used that correctly) were with a phalanx of nice-looking people (now, that doesn't sound right), 20s - 40s, male and female, all being ticketed for the grievous offense of trying to be more comfortable in an empty train, late at night.

Okay. That was a bit sarcastic.

I actually kind of understand the regulation. No one wants to sit in someone else's filthy footprint. (We would much prefer to sit in the residue of someone's filthy ass.) But, while I can't vouch for my fellow alleged perpetrators, I'm confident I violated neither the letter nor spirit of the law.

Letter: I did not have my foot "on" another seat. (Some might say this is a matter of interpretation.)
Spirit: I didn't dirty another's seat; I didn't taker up a seat another needed to sit in; I didn't create/contribute to an environment of unruliness.

But what do the officers care? This was a sweep; presumably a revenue-generating one for the city. They claim they're on a "quality of life" detail, but they've done nothing to improve the quality of life of our sullen band of underground detainees. (Hey! We're back in present tense. It's like a crazy rollercoaster ride. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!)

I consciously adopt a more relaxed posture to indicate my non-concern. The cop who conveys my ID information to mission control or whoever he's talking to through his "Protect and Serve" brand communications device, is so attentive to detail that he gives my middle name as my first name. Perhaps this is why my long-ago fare-beating ticket, for which there is no statute of limitations and which I have never paid, doesn't come back to haunt me. (I'll tell that story here someday.)

A female officer gives me my ticket. I say, "Thanks for this lovely gift."

I gave a fake address. I have 30 days to pay $50 bucks or contest it. I may contest it. I have no intention of paying it.

I told the phalanx (as long as I'm using it, I want to get maximum value out of that word) that I would contest it and followed with "I look forward to seeing one or all of you officers at that time. It'll be my word against yours and I'll lose but at least that'll be one day you won't be able to pull this crap on people who've done nothing wrong." (You know, 'cause they'll be in court rather than "on the job".)

My original "arresting officer" said, "I hope I'm off that day." (He wants to get me. I have a nemesis!.)

Strangely, no trains have rolled into the station during the time the officers have kept us corralled. But as soon as they let us go, a train pulls in so I can continue my journey.

The two cute girls express their support my intention to contest this unfair application of "the law". I get on the train, in which a guy is stretched out across a bank of seats, wrapped in a blanket, lost in slumber. Some time thereafter, another guy pisses in the train.

I took my traditional position in the perpendicular seats, top of my shoe against the side of the flush seats before me. Sometimes my shoelace or the top of my shoe edged onto the seat itself.

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4 March, 2007 @ 17:56 GMT
http://blogs.chortle.co.uk/andrewjlederer