The Sunday before last, I was driving away from Eber’s place in Roswell when he called to tell me that my taillight was out.  The Taillights have four bulbs, side and back on both sides; the back left was out, but it didn’t seem too much of a problem since the back left side was still working.  Anyway, I had to get gas and checked it out at the gas station.  It was too dark and too difficult to fix there.  It was also cold.  I thought about going to Wal-Mart and getting a new bulb but ultimately decided it could wait until the next day.

Anyway, in Vaughn, New Mexico, which is the first town north of Roswell but about an hour and half away, I was pulled over.  I had to pee so bad, I’d been thinking about Vaughn for a good thirty, forty minutes before I got there.  I thought it might have been for speeding, getting pulled over, since there is often a speed trap, but it was of course the taillight.

The officer asked me if I had any guns in the car and asked me for all the paperwork: license, registration, insurance.  I didn’t have the most recent insurance card, only an expired one, but I had the rest of it.  He commented on my New York State driver’s license and asked me what I was doing in Vaughn.  Good Question.  I went on to explain.

He had pulled me over in the parking lot of the only gas station and convenient store for about fifty miles.  People stopped to stare.  It was exciting for them.  There wasn’t much else going on.  It was also cold, and I still had to pee.  The officer told me that it would be a ninety-eight dollar fine and that I could mail it to the address on the back of the ticket.  I asked him if it weren’t possible to get it fixed and appeal the ticket or something of that nature.  He said it was my right, took back the ticket, asked me if that was what I wanted to do and then went on to write a court date for me.  It was nearly impossible to read.

The following Wednesday at 1:45pm I arrived in Vaughn.  I didn’t know where to go, but I did have fifteen minutes.  I drove around, and I think I saw the whole town.  I ended up at the elementary school before town hall while looking for municipal-style buildings.  There was a little tailgate party with a cop in the elementary school parking lot.  The old policeman was telling a story, so I asked a woman in that group where to go for my ticket, and she told me that Judge Sanchez might be in the building with the red roof, pointing across town, but that she also might not be in on a Wednesday afternoon.

I went to where she’d pointed.  There was a police car with its engine running out front.  I found her and the young officer that issued me the ticket.  Judge Sanchez was a cheery woman in her fifties.  She asked me where I was from and, accordingly, what I was doing in Vaughn.  The young officer asked, “Get ‘er fixed?”  I said that I had.  I showed them both.  She said that I was dismissed and wished me a good day.  It was 2:03pm when I made it back in the car and started heading back to Roswell.

All in all, it wasn’t that bad, and I’m glad that I decided to fight the good fight.