So 2 days ago, I get a letter in the post! Which I rip open with glee mind you… no one ever sends me post bleh, so there I am thinking, “YES! Finally, I actually HAVE won the UK lottery”. Only to discover to my horror a very scary sounding document stating that I have been served with an AARTO Infringement notice… a what? I don’t know either but it sounds serious! So Google being all empowering I discover it stands for Administrative Adjudication of Road Traffic Offences. So basically… I got a fine! This new system is the smartarsey one where they deduct points off your license for stupid shit like you know… driving up the wrong side of the highway etc.. which I am going to miss doing I might add… but now that you can actually get DEMERITED, hellz no…
They no longer send you the actual fine in the post, no no no, they send you the Infringement notice, WHICH you cannot collect at your nearest post orifice, no no no that would be too much like Rocket Science, they send it to the Pretoria Central Post Office.
So anyhoo, I know Dalekins did get a “potential” fine with my car, so I assume it’s that one so he offers to go and fetch it, which he does yesterday.
So off he toodles to the centre of town with his machete strapped to his side to go fetch the dreaded fine.
Dalekins on phone: “Um what’s your car registration number”
Me: “ZZZ la la la blah blah GP”
Dalekins: “Oh really because this fine is for AMP459GP” and the photo is of a minibus taxi… and the traffic offence occurred in Soweto…!! have you got a second job haven’t told me about?
Me: “What the fuck!! So you went all that way and the fine is BLATANTLY for another car!”
Dalekins: “Yep, don’t worry shnookums, I’ll call them and sort it for you tomorrow.”
So this morning, Dalekins phones the number ON the fine to tell them they gone and made a booboo (I would have used more colourful language here but I am using the word fuck way too much). They then inform him..” Eish, you must phone this other number”.. which they then give him, which he calls and they tell him “Eish you must phone this number (The first number he had just dialed)… now you already know how this is going to go eh?
So Dalekins gets hold of them, they look the fine up on the system… “oh yes, I can see its completely the wrong car.” Now I have a question which freaking NOOB is sitting there matching the Reg numbers with cars because he needs a pair of fucking goggles.
Agent: “You just have to fill in this form that I’ll email you, tell us why you are not paying YOUR fine… please ensure you write in plain Latin, have it stamped by a Commissioner of OATH, and then go back to the post office and send it back to us by REGISTERED MAIL”
Well… I am about to have an aneurism.
Please find attached your fine. Why am I not paying you ask, and wait for it because this is going to get complicated “I don’t drive a FUCKING TAXIIIIIIIIIIIIII”
Attached also please find an invoice for costs incurred by me *points at me* having to sort out your *points at you* incompetence:
1 X Valium (because if I don’t have one I’m going to come over there and staple your fingers to your desks)* R50
1 X Crocodile Dundee type knife for Dalekins to take with to town as protection R1200
1 X Trip to Central Post Office for aforementioned bullshit fine R100 (AA Rates)
1 X Valium for Dalekins because he had to deal with your stupid arsed call centre who don’t know their arses from their elbows R50
20 x phone calls R500
2 Hours @ R5000 an hour to go to Commisioner of Oath and Post Office to send you BACK your stupid arsed fine that doesn’t belong to me because I don’t drive a bastard taxi
Hope you all grow boils on your bums.