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People from other cities may dispute this, but I am making it official: San Antonio has the stupidest drivers and most corrupt traffic court system in the world.
It's a shame this is the case, too, because San Antonio has the best highways in Texas. Really. The sign in front of the Texas Department of Transportation office on Loop 410 says so. It's a nice sign to look at while you're stuck in traffic moving at maybe 5 piles per hour due to incessant construction.
TxDOT can't be wrong, though; they are models of efficiency and ease. This was proven to me when I had to get a replacement title for my car because I lost the original. I went to the office, and a very nice lady gave me the forms to fill out. She also translated them for me since they were in the Texas dialect of the official American language, Bureaucratese. She then told me that since the place that sold me the car never bothered to remove their lien after I paid off the car, I had to go to their office and get them to sign three forms before I could get my title. Their office was on the complete other side of town, also on Loop 410 (official motto: "The World's Biggest Parking Lot"), which means this trip was no small endeavor.
Nevertheless, I made the trip to their office. SInce the car was paid off in 1997, naturally the finance company had no record of it whatsoever. They tried everything to find it; VIN number, license plate number, driver's license number, social security number, blood sample, locks of my hair and strange incantations; no luck. They had to call an office in California before they could find the records; then they filled out the forms. This took roughly 45 minutes, during which I sat and enjoyed their lovely selection of magazines from the mid 1980s.
Finally finished with the tomes of Bureaucratese, I walked back into the TxDOT office and presented them to the high priestess of the Church of Papershuffling. She looked at them, tsked a few times, and then told me, "The manager from the finance office signed these wrong; he was supposed to sign them here and here.....and not here. He needs to date them also." I then asked, incredulously, if she expected me to trek out in 100 degree heat AGAIN (remember, this is Texas, aka hell) for another 45 minutes because of a stupid signature. (This office was closing in an hour, incidentally.) I should have known better than to question the dominatrix in charge; her steel-toothed grin showed that my misery merely pleased her more.
I went back to the finance office, got the forms signed, making sure the manager signed them where I had put big X's and highlighted the spaces so he'd be spared the troublesome bother of actually reading the forms before filling them out. I then realized that there was no chance in hell I would make it back to the TxDOT office in time, and would have to come back tomorrow. Total time spent: 5 hours for a new title.
But I digress about TxDOT (motto: "You Can't Spell Dolt without TxDOT"); there is a much bigger fish to fry. A covert fish. One that ambushes us and sucks our pockets dry. I refer, of course, to that remora of the roadways known as the traffic cop.
As usual, I was running late one fine summer evening to get to work, and was merrily cruising down 281 at a nice decent 70 miles per hour. Suddenly, I see flashing colored strobe lights behind me. I knew that they probably hadn't opened a club in the middle of the highway, so it was most likely a traffic cop. What stunned me, however, was what happened after I pulled over. I had literally not seen this cop anywhere. I know everyone says this when they get a ticket, but I hadn't. There was a reason for this: he was driving a camouflaged car. Not an unmarked car; a camouflaged car.
The car was solid black. There were no easily visible lights; they were buried in the grill. It was only when the cop opened the door to shake me down that I saw the San Antonio Police logo on the car. It was camouflaged too, barely visible against the black paint, even under bright light. I later saw a story in the San Antonio Express-News where they featured the camouflaged cars. The cops were so proud of their precious little covert operation; it would have been charming if I hadn't been one of those caught in the sting.
I use the word sting for a reason. It is my firm opinion, after being caught a few times, that the Municipal Courts and Police Department are in cahoots. The goal is simple: to separate San Antonians from as much of their money as possible. If you have ever gone downtown to take care of a ticket, it's pretty clear that this is the case. The entire operation is geared to get you in, get your money, and get you out. Big signs everywhere remind you that if you choose to contest the ticket (or discuss it at all), you'll have a big wait. If you choose to just pay the fine, however, you can walk right to the cashiers. Six money hoovers, no waiting! The fines themselves are amusing as well; read the back of your ticket sometime to see how much the City of San Antonio is hitting you up for. Mine came out to \$245 or so.
This is more annoying when you consider how stupid the speed limits are in this city. For example, 281 near downtown is 50 miles per hour. In what modern city do you see speed limits like that on a highway? It's absurd to the point of tears. It eventually gets up to 55 (wheeee), and then, for the adventurous drivers, it hits a whopping 60 miles per hour just north of the Quarry Market. Did I mention these are actual interstate highways? Three lanes and everything? In other cities, they have halfway decent speed limits. I learned to do most of my driving in Austin, for example, and if they put a 50 mile per hour speed limit on any highway in that city, you'd see people driving their cars all over the lawn of the Capitol in protest.
There are two reasons, however, that San Antonio highways are so horrible. The first reason we've already hit on; the city makes too much money keeping speed limits insanely low to want to change them. The more drivers get pissed off and speed, the more pork the city gets. It's that simple.
The second reason, however, is even worse: San Antonians drive like old women on Prozac. Seriously. People here drive incredibly slow, especially on highways. They do not signal. They think nothing about crossing three lanes of traffic with no warning because they aren't paying attention and missed an exit. They seem to have cell phones grafted to their hands that they must use while driving or die. And actually knowing where you're going and how to get there quickly seems to be a social taboo.
Don't get me wrong, not all San Antonio drivers are bad. Just most of them. For those of you who are, I simply have this to say: FOR THE LOVE OF WHATEVER GODS YOU WORSHIP, GET OFF THE CELL PHONE, PUT DOWN THE HAMBURGER, QUIT DOING YOUR MAKEUP, USE YOUR DAMN TURN SIGNAL, DISCOVER THE PEDAL CALLED AN ACCELERATOR, AND PLEASE KNOW WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE GOING! (This was taken verbatim from my usual "friendly" advice when driving, by the way.)
