Finally had time to return to the post office today. Tomorrow is the seventh and final day of my grace period, and as the week has progressed I have been getting more and more anxious about my unpaid speeding ticket. Even though I had every intention of paying before the deadline, just the thought of being hunted down and hauled off to jail made me break out into a cold sweat.
Once again, I ashamedly produced the ticket and some yen at the information desk, and the clerk pointed me to the bank counter in the center of the post office. The teller there handed me a form to fill in, then took it, the ticket, and the cash off for processing. I was pointed to a chair to wait while the paperwork was completed. When she came back, she presented me with an official receipt, and what I assume to be a paid stamp on the ticket. All of this with no look of censure or finger-pointing. I know I am not the first person in Japan, or even the first foreigner, to get a speeding ticket, but for some reason I feel like a big scarlet S has been branded in my forehead for all the world to see. It’s not even my most grievous speeding ticket (78 in a 55 back home), so the shame and guilt are totally out of proportion to the crime. What’s wrong with me? Guess I wanted to be a counter-example to the common stereotype that Americans are fat, lazy, loud, outlaw-types.
I took the ticket home and put it in the pile of other mementos I’ve collected for a scrapbook. I’m hopeful that someday I’ll be able to look at this as just one more unique experience in Japan without feeling like an axe-murderer.
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