A day in the East

After so much good luck in a week, it finally ran out on the way home from Subic. It was the day after Tri United, Pacquiao was set to pummel Margarito in a few hours, and I had a Mitsubishi Lancer GLX with which to zip from Zambales to home in a few hours. The car had done a swell job of carrying me and all my tri gear without breaking a sweat.

On the SCTEX a brief full throttle blast when the road cleared proved that, ah, it was pretty darn fast. As a matter of fact, I was making such good time that I decided to make a quick pit stop at a Caltex on the NLEX for a shave and a coffee. Then, after just going with the flow of traffic and having forgotten about all my high speed antics... the inevitable happened. A PNCC officer flagged me down just before the tollbooth.

 Since I’m not one to pick a fight, I stopped and politely asked him what was up. “Sir, good morning po! May anti-speeding operation po kami ngayon. Na-radar po namin kayo.” Feigning surprise, I asked him what my speed was. “Ah sir, nahuli namin po kayo na 138kph”, he said, showing me a notebook with the Lancer’s plate number, the trap speed, and a whole lot of other cars listed too. At that point, after testing the car quite a bit faster than what he just said, I was actually relieved. Not being familiar with all the rules, I figured it would be better to just surrender and not bother with the whole hemming-hawing-asking for a warning act.

Of course, as anyone who’s ever been caught on the NLEX, Skyway, or SCTEX can tell you, it’s no fun getting your license back because you have to claim it at the LTO’s main office on East Avenue. But what the heck, after seeing Pacquiao beat the living hell out of Margarito a few hours later I felt it was my civic duty to man up to my offense and just roll with the punches.

Not wanting to waste any more time than was necessary, I disregarded my Temporary Operating Permit’s (T.O.P.) “valid for 72 hours” fine print and went to the office a full week later. No point going there in just 3 days only to be told it wasn’t being processed yet, right?

So, with a whole Monday consigned to the 9th circle of hell on East Avenue, I arrived there at 9:30AM, found a parking slot, and asked a friendly security guard how the procedure was. A companion in civvies asked to look at my T.O.P., and recited a script I’d heard the last time I’d been caught for speeding:

Stranger: “Ah sir, speeding po kayo. Mga P1,500 po yung penalty tapos may seminar pa tsaka exam.

Me: “Ah ganun ba?” Right, another “imaginary” seminar to scare and encourage me for a more, hmm, expeditious process.

Stranger: “Opo. Kung gusto nyo po, ako na po maglalakad para di kayo maabala. Mga P2,500 po.

Me: “Ah sige di bale na lang. Subukan ko muna dito sa pila.” Walk away, man. Just walk away.

Note that this short conversation happened right beside the security guard, in an area with signs saying “No Fixers Allowed” (or words to that effect).

Full Disclosure: I’d actually availed of such a service before. A nice, clean cut man took my permit and my money. After I’d waited a few hours wondering what I’d do if he never came back and left me stuck with neither my license nor my permit, he came back with my license a few hours later. I got my license back, but the whole experience left me feeling dirty. However, since we are now in the administration of “Kung Walang Corrupt, Walang Mahirap”, I was willing – if not really excited – to try the “Daang Matuwid” with these government types.

So, I took a seat along with the other traffic violators, beside dozens of public utility driver types, and a smattering of middle class folk like me. Strangely, not a single lady was present. There was, however, a lawyerly looking gentleman dressed in barong queing up with the rest of us. Giving each of us numbers, the security guard sent us off in batches to the main office where, after an hour or so, a computer printout was given to me detailing my violation and the corresponding penalty: P1,200 plus the innocuous “Driving Seminar”. Uh oh. Meanwhile, the fixer was still there just hanging around. Business didn’t look too good.

After a short walk to the cashier to pay my fine, another security guard told me to head over to another building for the seminar.

And I thought they were kidding!

As luck would have it, the morning seminar was already underway. However, said another friendly officer manning the door, if I came back after lunch there’d be another one for the day.

If I was younger, or emotionally unprepared for such an ordeal I might have argued and tried to force my way in. Or maybe even sought the assistance of the Friendly Neighborhood Fixer. Instead, I took note of the time, called up a friend, and went over to his office over lunch for a quick chat.

By 1PM I was back at the LTO where we were (again) politely told to take an armchair seat (the type you used to sit in during college), watch a video trumping up the accomplishments of the LTO in the past several years (Hip! Hip! Hooray!), and then take up an exam on basic driving rules and etiquette. In Tagalog, no less, which gave me a chance to polish my translating skills.

Exam over, we went up to the 2nd floor, waited one more hour, and finally got a piece of paper “certifying” that we had passed the seminar and, yes, were cleared to reclaim our license.

Another walk back to the main office. Another half an hour of waiting before, finally, getting my license back.

In summary: I got in at 9:30AM and was out by 3:30PM for a total 6 hours sans fixer, lakad, or another driver to do my dirty work for me.

I suppose this is still Progress. I suppose I could complain about how much time it all took, but then again it is my own fault for speeding. And really, the first time I got caught during the Erap administration I spent close to 8 hours without the benefit of airconditioning, shade, or even polite guards and officers to lessen my discomfort. These days, it’s an ordeal close to getting your passport renewed: you sit, you stand, you pay, but at least you’re not made to feel like a criminal anymore.

What’s the takeaway? If you ever get caught, getting your license back and paying your dues isn’t as bad as it used to be. And if you don’t ever want to set foot in the LTO, if you don’t ever want to enrich the unofficial bureacracy of fixers and other expediters, then don’t overspeed. Or, if you love cars, love to drive, and can’t help being naughty, then just Don’t. Get. Caught.

It looks like Ray Butch Gamboa’s piece on how difficult it is to recover stolen vehicles touched a raw nerve. Here are a couple of your comments…

Amazing... Thanks Butch for this write up. I’m with Mr. Mabilog, it’s like you have to go through an NFL defensive line just to get these documents. And what if you’ve been injured during the carnapping? How do you suppose you could get these documents for filing the alarm? I think two to three documents should be enough. brondial

When we, as normal citizens, complain of police moron-ness, we are treated like garbage; let’s see now if this Palawan Representative has what it takes to do something about this nonsensical police absurdity. This article confirms my view that ex-military generals/colonels are the worst people to put in charge of civilian organizations such as the PNP. Bruks_pt

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