Lead Foot or Gold Foot?

A Swiss millionaire has been fined the equivalent of $290,000 for speeding. This is the kind of fine that produces anxiety attacks in certain people just reading about it. (Deep breaths. Knee bends. You'll get through it Mr. Letterman.)

Supposedly, the legal justification for this bank account-vaccuuming penalty is the practice of fining people proportionally to their wealth. This is probably why people like Bill Gates avoid Switzerland. The gendarmes on Swiss motorways know that one little citation for the Microsoft founder could fund the Swiss police nationally for a decade or more. I'm also sure there are more than a few references in Swiss police chat to the "Sheik" lottery ticket, when obscenely wealthy Middle Eastern oil barons are in country for some high-class chocolate and the obligatory novelty cuckoo clock. [The one where your favorite Eurovision singer pops out and does a cover of Edwin Starr's "War (What Is It Good For?)"]

So the strategy for any wealthy would-be speeder should be to feign poverty. "How'd you get the Jaguar then?" "Stole it off a dealer's lot in Bern. I got sick of hiking the Alps on my skateboard."

Claiming to be an impoverished car thief is likely going to be cheaper than admitting you're stinking rich and and stamp on the accelerator like a cast member in an amateur production of Riverdance.

The only other alternative is to put all your cash in one of those famous Swiss bank accounts that no one can ever seem to track down. That'd show the Swiss authorities.

Erm... I could have sworn it was 35 MPH.

Brace yourselves. I have a confession to make. I am not always the law-abiding moral paragon of virtue that our regular readers have come to expect. Today, I was caught up in a helter-welter of lawlessness that resulted in a direct and tense face-off (No, not the John Woo type) with the local law enforcement officials.

I got a speeding ticket.

I was returning from a lovely meal of carne asada and queso dip ("Cheeeese Gromit!") when I decided to take my usual shortcut via a two-lane throughfare just off the highway. I was in a pleasant mood and singing when I passed a local school and saw the officer sitting there. I immediately glanced at my speedometre to discover that I was doing 65.

OK, that was Kilometres per hour. Fortunately, I was only doing 41 Miles per hour, which was still - amazingly - 16 miles an hour over the speed limit.

Obviously, that little village does not intend for motorised vehicles to travel down that particular street. I can barely keep my 2000 Nissan Maxima running at that speed. The thing idles at 30 Mph.

Anyway, the officer politely endured my protestations that I could have sworn it was 35 Mph through that street, and did they change the signs recently, whilst filling out the ticket. He suggested I could keep it off my record by attending a local "driving class." Bono's about as likely to turn up in that class as I am. I didn't actually say that out loud, but I thought the equivalent of it intensely.

It was at that point that I realised I needed much better excuses, should this happen again. I set to work and immediately came up with some really crappy ones. Since, we (or lately, I) at DOUI value our readers, I pass them along for your observation.*

• (In a vague, accent, inoffensive to any actual ethnic group) Me no speak the Eng-leesh very good, general! Please no shoot! I love America!! (pause) Is this Can-deed Camera?
  
• I'm terribly, terribly, terribly sorry. I only hope that my thoughtless, callous disregard for your speed trap hasn't endangered the life of the heart patient I was rushing to treat.
  
• You do realise that the spacetime continuum was warped for a moment at the precise time you chose to point your primitive radar gun at my vehicle, and that the readings you took are not only inaccurate but over 50 million years old?
  
• 41 Miles per hour? I thought it said 41 Kilometres per hour! (Waste not, want not.)
  
• I'm sorry officer, I really had to get home fast and for a good reason. Now that you've stopped me though, is it all right if I just have a leak here on the street?
  
• Attica! Attica!!
  
• That's a luvvvv-ley gun you've got there officer. I bet you're a wunnnn-derful shot. Was little old me speeding? Ooooh, I hope you don't have to put those nasty old handcuffs on!
  
• I'm sorry, but I deny the philosophical dictatorial imposition of the concept of "speed" and "limits." Just because you believe in such moribund concepts as physical reality doesn't mean I should be punished for your refusal to enter the 21st Century with the rest of us!
  
• Erm... Officer. XYZ, PDQ.
  
• Only 41 stinking Mph? I had my foot to the floor, son! How am I gonna make the field at Talledega drivin' like that??
  
• I'm sorry officer! I was driving as fast as I could to get away from the giant radioactive winged newts! They're everywhere! Everywhere, I tell you!!

*F. Johnny Lee informs me that we cannot actually recommend that you use these excuses. Something about fraud and false testimony or whatnot. So don't. Ever.