Burden of crime leads to confession

Kate Stewart

I've been thinking long and hard about what to write about this week and I have decided it is time for me to come clean and confess.

I'm not who you think I am. Nothing I have told you is a lie. I just chose to leave out a few details.

Until recently I have spent much of my time evading capture by police. I was a fugitive, a woman on the run. It's no life, I tell you, looking over your shoulder, risking life and limb just driving to the shop to buy a loaf of bread. Knowing that every time I ventured out, I ran the risk of being stopped and arrested ... they would probably have enough on me to "bang me up" for Christmas and beyond.

Some time away from the life forms and the idea of not having to prepare the Christmas dinner, held a great deal of appeal but I knew I couldn't go on like this. I had to find some way to right my wrongs, beat this rap and restore my street cred in da hood.

I'm not proud of my actions. There's no one to blame except me, but sometimes in life you do what you have to, to survive.

It's exhausting, both physically and mentally. The burden of my crime weighs heavy and I can no longer endure the stress of it. Waking each morning and wondering if today is the day. Was the Armed Offenders Squad waiting to pounce? Would my face be on the "wanted list" of Police Ten 7? I was a woman on the edge. The time for redemption was now. I finally had the cash that would enable me to buy my salvation.

Once in the clear, I have promised never to cross back over to the "dark side". I hope and pray family and friends will not judge me too harshly and will, one day, see fit to forgive me my crimes.

Who knows? This confession may even cost me my column. The Chronicle may not want to be associated with a self-confessed crim.

Details of my crime may be deeply disturbing and so I advise discretion. I am only sharing these details to serve as a warning to those who may consider the same path I took. Believe me when I say, it's just not worth it.

OK ... here goes: I knowingly drove my car without a current WOF. Worse, it was yellow stickered. OMG, the shame. I was pulled over at a random checkpoint. I had no seatbelt. It had jammed and in a fit of rage I had taken to it with a pair of scissors, rendering the vehicle unwarrantable. It is at this point in the story that another crime is uncovered.

The charge at VTNZ to remove said sticker: $100. No one had prepared me for this, so I was a little shocked and a lot angry. The paperwork clearly stated that I was stickered for no seatbelt. I now had a seatbelt, so when I asked how they justified this absurd charge, I was told that there was extra paperwork and that the vehicle would be subject to extra scrutiny. Hmmm, extra scrutiny on an already exacting list of requirements. Just another means of the government extorting money, more like.

Then when the car was finally warranted it was delivered back to me with the freaking sticker still on the windscreen. The rebel in me wanted to keep it as a badge of honour and also to see just how long I could drive round with one before I was stopped. But I had paid good money and could ill-afford to get the thing removed so I insisted they take it off. Talk about money for nothing.

I may have done wrong but the real crime here is the extra charges and hidden costs that are applied to so many things these days, with no real way of justifying them.

It may have come at a heavy cost, but my burden has been lifted and I am back on the straight and narrow after a short detour into a life of danger and daring. In my defence, I would like to point out that I did not, at any time, let my life form drive the car when it was not warranted.

Thanks, as always, for your feedback. Keep it coming, investik8@gmail.com. A $50 surcharge may apply, to cover the cost of scanning and opening email. Smile loudly, peeps.

Kate Stewart is an unemployed, reluctant mother of three, running amok in the city ... approach with caution or cheesecake.