Last time, when I posted I Know it Teases on February 5th,
I told you that I was to have a personal hearing about my appeal against a £70 traffic
fine imposed upon me because I stopped for a short time in a bus stop in
Luton. I told you then that I only stopped because I was suffering from a
sneezing fit and that I never turned off the engine, never left the car and
that I occupied the space in the bus stop for a maximum of two minutes.
The hearing today was held at my
request because Luton Council had rejected my written appeal.
It didn’t start too well. I
was to be at the Napier Room of the Chiltern Hotel in Luton at 11.45 and after
a 35-minute drive I arrived half an hour early. I was told at reception
that the Napier Room was one of several rooms off a concourse on the ground
floor. As I went through the double doors into the concourse I was
faced by a young lady sitting at a desk.
“Have you come for the hearing?”
she asked. I said that I had.
“Name?”
I told her.
“You’re not on the list,” she
said, looking up after consulting a clipboard for a time.
“So what do I do?”
“You’ll have to make another
appointment,” she said.
“Look, I didn’t make this
appointment in the first place,” I said, somewhat tetchily. “You gave me
the date and time back in November. I’ve given up a morning and driven 25
miles to be here. Can’t you fit me in?”
“Sorry, no. Make another
appointment.”
“How can I make another
appointment when I haven’t got a first one?”
She shrugged.
“This is ridiculous,” I said
angrily, wondering whether or not to make a scene in front of the four or five
people waiting, seated on chairs nearby. Yes, I decided that I would.
“I’m not surprised that anything
organised by Luton Council should end up like this. It’s a farce!”
“Can I help you sir,” said a
young man in a suit.
“No, not unless you’re something
to do with the hearing,” I snapped. “Otherwise mind your own business.”
“Yes I am something to do with
it. In fact I’m in charge,” he said frostily.
Oh dear. Not the best way
to meet the person about to listen to my case.
I had a thought. Caroline’s
name was on the car’s registration document.
“Perhaps you have my wife’s
name,” I said. “It’s Caroline Dawes.”
The young man in a suit looked at
me with a look of concern and possibly, pity.
“Why would you come to take your
wife’s hearing test?” he asked gently. “That wouldn’t make much sense,
now would it sir?”
“This isn’t the Napier room
then? Traffic hearings?”
“No sir. That’s over
there. This is where we are doing the Old People’s Homes’ hearing tests.”
“Oh.”
“Perhaps you should come and take
the test after your hearing.”
Very funny! So I went ‘over
there’ and sat down under a sign that I hadn’t seen before saying,
TRAFFIC OFFENCE
Personal hearings
Please wait here
Perhaps the old people waiting
for hearing tests hadn’t heard me make an idiot of myself.
The adjudicator was a solicitor
who explained at great length that he was neutral and disinterested. It
was so nice to hear someone use the word “disinterested” in the proper way that
I was quite encouraged.
He introduced me to two young
women who were representing Luton Council. I can’t remember both names
but one was called ‘Margaret Thatcher’. She was only about 27. How
could her parents have called her Margaret? That’s almost like the
Sutcliffes calling their son “Peter”.
I was asked to put my case and
give the new evidence. I said that there was no new evidence. I was
guilty as charged but there were, in my opinion, mitigating circumstances that
should be fully considered. I repeated all that I had put in my letter
about how dangerous it was to drive while sneezing and quoted the two court
cases that I described in “I Know it Teases”.
Ms Thatcher was asked to respond.
All she could say was that I had not produced a medical report and that I
should have been aware that I might sneeze.
“And do what?” I asked her.
“Surely I only had two options. Either I could carry on driving or
stop. I chose the safer of those two. I haven’t got a medical
report because there is no cure for photoptarmosis and so what would be the
point of going to a doctor?”
The adjudicator
interrupted. “I’ve come to a decision,” he said. “I find in your
favour.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying hard
(but failing) not to give a smug grin in Ms Thatcher's direction.
“Will I get expenses?” I
asked. “I’ve given up a whole morning, made a fifty mile round trip and
used about seven pounds worth of petrol and all that just to just repeat out
loud what I put in my original letter of appeal.”
“No,” said the adjudicator.
“So instead of it costing me the
sixty pounds if I hadn’t appealed, it has cost me seven pounds for the petrol
plus whatever I value to be the worth of three hours of my day.”
“Yes,” said the
adjudicator.
“Also,” I said, “There’s the hour
I spent researching past case law to do with sneezing. That’s all got to
come to more than a hundred pounds. Are you saying I can’t claim for any
of that?”
“Yes,” said the
adjudicator.
“Can I appeal?”
“Yes,” said the adjudicator.
“But as it will be I who
adjudicates,” he said, and I swear he was grinning at Ms Thatcher, “Don’t waste
any more of your time.”
I won’t.
I don't know why I bothered.
You will find my last regular posting on March 27th 2011 here: At the End of The day
