fine

Few days ago, I got a fine.

I had left home in a rush, without taking a shower, thinking I would be out only few minutes. While away I got a call asking if I could work lunch.

Rushing home on a Velib, I got a ticket. I waited, almost patiently, for the light to turn red for the pedestrians but did not stick around for the light for the car to turn green. And this is when the police got me. Great. Just perfect.

I got home, in a greater rush than I had been before. I had exactly 6minutes to shower, get dressed, get my things and go. And I had to write a cheque for the fine.

In France you have three days to pay a traffic ticket and you do it by sending a cheque to the police.

I wrote the cheque, put it in an envelope and on my way out dropped into the mailbox. As the envelope had slipped out of my hand I realised that the stamp was still in my wallet. Perfect. Just perfect.

What could I do?

The stamp was the last one in a set of many, so there was a tiny bit of sticky surface. I went to the tabac opposite the mailbox and asked for a piece of white paper. Reluctantly the lady gave me a corner of an ark.

“Madame/Mister Postman, could you please please please attach this stamp to the envelope going to the police? Please. Thank you so very much.” My name and my address.

That was my note.

I attached the stamp on to the note and used the rest of the extra sticky bit to glue the note inside the mailbox, such under the little hole, through which you drop your letters into it.

By this point I was already late for work.

Would the postman notice my message? Would he care? Would the police get my cheque?

Yesterday I got my bank statement. The cheque had been cashed. Within the three-day period.

I was saved.