I spent a few minutes pondering what kind of joke I should open with. Let’s go with a hooker joke.
Coming up, 700 words on me justifying getting a hooker. I don’t care, I’ll buy love.
Since I’m pretty badass, I break the law all the time. Jaywalking? YOU KNOW IT. Going over the speed limit? SPEED GIVES ME A RUSH. Sex with underage girls? I ADMIT NOTHING. GO AWAY, CHRIS HANSEN.
Let me tell you kids a story. It involved a friend of mine, who lived in Calgary, back in about 2006. He was on Calgary’s version of the subway, their above rail line called the C-Train. (The ‘C’ stands for crazy. As in, Crazy Train. FINALLY, AN OZZY OSBOURNE REFERENCE ON FINANCIAL UPROAR) And he watched someone get a ticket for riding the train without having purchased a ticket. That prompted the following conversation.
Me: So did the transit cops, like, Taze him?
Him: No. You’re stupid.
Watching that got him thinking. He rode the train downtown every weekday, during rush hour, and he hardly saw a transit cop. He mused that he could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever been asked to produce his ticket during his few years of transit riding. So he came up with an experiment.
He stopped buying a transit pass.
Calgary’s rail system is somewhat unique, since turnstiles essentially don’t exist. The entire system is based on the honor system. You’d still have to show a bus driver your ticket, but there’s nobody consistently checking train tickets.
Back then, a transit pass would set you back $60 a month, and the fine for being caught without a ticket was about $85. Now the numbers are approximately $95 and $150, respectively. It isn’t really that big of a punishment if you get caught without a ticket.
So what happened? He went 9 months before he got caught. He was nice when he finally got busted, and the transit cop said he would have let him off with a warning if the boss wasn’t there.
The tally: One $85 ticket, $540 saved on transit fees. He was so thrilled with the results that he immediately tried it again. He had a kid and therefore stopped talking to everyone after that, so I’m not sure how his second attempt ended up, but I have a feeling the transit cops would eventually realize he wasn’t buying a pass and singling him out.
Also keep in mind that he was a clean-shaven white male, which clearly worked to his advantage. It’s kinda racist, but it’s true. I wouldn’t recommend this strategy if you’re hobo looking with dreadlocks. I’d rethink the dreads in general, but that’s just me.
Want another example? Gather around kids, I’ll tell another story. Are you all still awake after the first story? DON’T ANSWER THAT.
Here in oil-lovin, homo-hatin Alberta, we have a distracted driving law. If you get caught driving and talking on your phone, or texting, or even putting on your lipstick. The fine is $172, and here’s a complete list of crap you can’t do. You can have a radio, but not an MP3 player. You can’t talk on the phone while holding it up to your ear, but you can if you use bluetooth. I’d say it was a dumb law, but then I’d probably get arrested. I LOVE THE NEW LAW, ALBERTA GOVERNMENT. PLEASE DON’T READ MY EMAIL.
Anyway, I was talking to a Realtor, who readily admitted he ignored the law. He was a busy guy, you see, so he didn’t have time to deal with the inconvenience of bluetooth. We all know that excuse is kinda BS, but is there a bit of logic there?
Assuming he’ll earn $10,000 in commission while negotiating deals and driving at the same time, isn’t a $172 ticket a pretty reasonable price to pay? Studies have shown using a handsfree device isn’t any safer than holding the phone to your ear, since it’s the conversation that distracts you. He’s no more dangerous than you or me, especially you. You drive worse than a (insert Asian minority joke here).
Can anyone else think of reasons why you’d intentionally break the law? Wall Street firms have gladly just paid the fines when the SEC gets mad at them, and so have oil companies, industrial companies, and Mosanto has probably been fined a time or two as well. Any other examples? Comment away, bitches.