Oh yeah, another instance of police corruption.
I was driving back from my friend's house in North Carolina. In a little town in South Carolina called Society Hill (what kind of society it was, it encouraged inbreeding), I could see the "highway" (51) was changing from a dotted line to a solid line up ahead, and there was a car moving VERY slowly in front of me. I passed the car before the line became solid.
IMMEDIATELY, a cop hiding behind a trailer park comes screaming out, lights flashing, sirens blaring, pulls me over, along with a pickup truck with flashers.
"Sir, step out of the car."
"What did I do officer?"
"Sir, I asked you to get out of the car, and I'm not going to ask you a second time (hand on his gun)".
I got out of the car. "Sir, it is my duty to inform you that I am carrying a concealed weapon, but I have a permit for it".
"Put your hands against the car, NOW!". I did. He took my Springfield XD, and my wallet, and dumped the contents onto the top of my car, searching for my permit. He found it. Issue over.
"Son, are you aware that you just passed over a solid yellow line to pass our er, I mean that car back there?"
"Uh, officer, the line's still dotted".
"Don't look dotted to me. Hey deputy, it look dotted to you?" "Nope"
"Get back in your car son, and take your firearm with you".
So I sat there, while they checked my SC license and Registration. Waited in the car for a freakin' half an hour, and went through a pack of cigarettes wondering if I was going to get pulled into the woods and told "SQUEEL PIGGY SQUEEL!!!!!!!".
So, the cop finally comes back with my information, and a citation. A $200 "Improper lane change violation". I said "How can you do this to me? I'm a poor college student, this is a racket, and it's frankly illegal". "I'm the law, so it's legal if I say it's legal, so go git the hell out of my town, and sell your car if you can't pay it!".
I left, really really angry, and called my dad (he was still alive at the time). He told me that since I was headed back up to that rural area next weekend to go and speak with the chief about the ticket, and "it was your choice to be a kike in the South, dumbass".
So, next Friday, I drove back through Society Hill, slowly, to try and find their municipal offices. I couldn't find them, circling back and forth. Then I noticed that the post office/court house/police station was a doublewide. I parked next to their brand new police cruisers, and went in.
"I'd like to speak to the Sheriff"
"Who, Sherriff Lemmon?"
"If that's his name, yes m'am, I would."
"Have a seat son".
So I waited in the courthouse/post office/police station for another 40 minutes, while the sherriff cut the heroin.
"Sherriff Lemmon will see you now."
So, I walked into an office to find a friendly looking, grey haired African American gentleman. We exchanged greetings, and shook hands. I explained my case to him, and the whole "I'm a student, blah blah blah" deal, and then I waited for his response.
He did this strange little laugh and said "My deputies saw you do it, are you saying my dputies are liars?" "No sir" "Well, you see, this will go on your driving record, and it's points off of your license. For a small fee, we can make this ticket, erm, disappear."
My stomach turned, this guy confirmed that this town was crooked.
"Say, an extra $200 on top of the fine."
"Sir, I don't have that much money, I only have $250 in my bank account, and I don't have any cash on me". (I lied, I had $3000 in there at the time, I think).
"Well, if you take a left out of the parking lot, there's an ATM down the street that charges a $5 surcharge. I'll accept the $200 and make the ticket go away."
"Figures"
"What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing sir, I was doing the figures in my head of how I'm going to afford the gas to get home".
I left the station, and grabbed my cell phone to call my dad to ask him what to do.
"Dad, here's what the sherriff said, what should I do?"
He started singing "I SHOT THE SHERRIFF!!"
"Seriously you fat bastard, what do I do here? Should I report this to SLED? (South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, kind of like the state FBI), or should I pay the man his money?"
"Pay the bastard. And be much more careful driving through these little town, they did the same thing to me when I was your age driving to Florida".
So I got the money, and returned to the court house/post office/police station.
I went into Lemmon's office, and plunked the money down on his desk.
He smiled, tore up the ticket, did his creepy little laugh, and said "Well, you be more careful driving through my town, okay boy?"
"Yes sir."
I left, absolutely fuming. I swear, for every good cop, there's 20 crooked ones lined up behind them.