Growing up...the painful way. (aka The only RUF intern with a warrant out for her arrest for the first YEAR of her employment.)

As ya'll well know I moved from Mississippi to Colorado this past year in August. Well what many of you may not know, is that on July 26th at 7:26 am I received a traffic ticket. The story goes a little something like this....
One morning Christy woke up very early to buy some paint. She was a little grumpy and concerned that all the responsibilities of the day would last longer than the actual minutes of the day, but she set out on her first quest--determined to conquer. Once she was in the store, she began to relax, delighting in the simple luxury of paint. Lingering sometime over the details of the paint selection, Christy made her purchase and left the store.
On her way home, she unwittingly snickered to herself at the large cop on the small motorcycle headed in the opposite direction on County Line Road. As she tried to hit the dashboard in the sweet-spot that made the tape-deck and speakers work together, it seemed to be a normal day. Then it happened--as the light in front of her turned red, blue lights turned on behind her. THAT FAT MOTORCYCLE COP HAD PULLED HER OVER! Flustered she waited for the green light and then pulled into a nearby Shell station.
While poor Christy searched for her license, registration and insurance, her stomach sank until it was parallel to her knees. The sharp rap on the window brought her from her search with a jolt.
"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" said Officer Fat.
"No sir, I don't even have a guess!" piped indignant yet timid Christy.
"Ma'am you're not wearing a seatbelt."
"Why, yes I---" to her dismay she looked down to see that in fact, Officer Fat was correct: her seatbelt hung limply to her right.
After Officer Fat, badge number 57, had ticketed her she headed home, sure her day could only get better...and it did. She finished her painting and visited with her dear sister Emily and completed all the things on the list for July 26th.

Fast forward one week. Christy sat at the foot of her bed on the cool hard wood floor in her overly warm house. 6-0-1-8-5-3-2-0-0-1 , her fingers carefully pecked out the Ridgeland clerks office and she prepared her oldest sounding voice.
"City of Ridgeland" answered the male voice on the phone.
"Yes, I received a traffic ticket and this is the number it has on it to call for information about the fine. It was a seatbelt violation."
"What is your driver's license number ma'am?"
"**********."
"Okay, let me look at that....that is twenty-six dollars and fifty cents"
"Where do I send it? and what do I do?"
"Just put a check in an envelope and mail it in to us."
"And that's all I have to do? I am about to leave the state so I need this to be right."
"That's it."
"Ok, thanks."
Feeling very official and grown up Christy wrote her check with her purple pen, addressed the envelope, put on the stamp and that very afternoon dropped it in the out of town box at the MSU post office.
END OF STORY, right??!!

Eleven months later, I go to get my Colorado ID. Apparently, my license has an alert telling them that my ID is suspended in Mississippi and that there is a warrant for my arrest in said state. You can imagine my shock and confusion. I dial the same number of the clerk and wait on hold for so long my 2/3 full battery starts to beep his last wishes as his life slipped away. Using my friend's phone I try again, after a full thirty five minutes of being on hold, a real voice finally answers.
There is no record my check ever came to them. I call my old bank and from July to October there is no record of a $26.50 check being processed. Bad news bears. Terrified, I call the clerk and ask what to do. Remarkably, it's only a 20 dollar late fee. (plus the original $26.50)
I mail the $46.50, I call today (a week later) to make sure they had received the payment. They did. I then ask, if my license is reinstated.
"Well, did you pay the reinstatement fee?"
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware of a reinstatement fee. How much is it?"
"I don't know you'll have to call blah blah blah blah..."
So I call the new number and find out, through a series of questions with a lady who obviously thought I was dumb and inconsequential, (I'm sure she's right, but come on, be polite--right?) that in September they mailed a warning to my old address (that I did set up a forwarding address for before I moved!!) And the clerk's office standardly sends a document when there are ten days left before ticketed fee is due. I also discover this latest "reinstatement fee" is $25--cashiers check or money order, and i have to have the receipt for the ticket and late fee.
I think this officially puts me at about a two week time before I am no longer a fugitive from justice.

Though it hurts me to say it--for I have long loved the force of men and women in there standard blue uniform with that proud eagle adorning their chests--I believe the U.S. Postal service has done me a great DIS-service, with three different failures resulting in my possible arrest.