Of course roadside commerce is not a peculiarly New Zealand pastime but it is certainly well developed here. In the summer I will seldom pass the opportunity to pick up a bag of Kerikeri oranges for a few dollars to be placed in the honesty box. And that box is well named as I wouldn't dream of just nicking the fruit.
Last night I decided to branch out in my range of roadside purchases and eschew fruit and veg for some demerit points. I ended up buying more than I would had I been purchasing from a shop but isn't that always the way with impulse buys? This is the first time that seeing the red and blue strobe lights in the rear view mirror has resulted in a purchase, believe it or not. I have been snapped by a stationary speed camera just the once but this is my first purchase from a mobile purveyor of goods. Several years ago a salesman flagged me down but after a discussion on the merits of his van vs my car I decided not to buy; or more correctly he decided not to sell.
Last night a little different. I got a senior salesman (as befitting my station in life) with three stripes on his arm. Very impressive. 72 kph in a 50kph zone. This on a Sunday night when the only other car on the road apart from myself was the salesman's unmarked truck. We had the pleasantries about my car. 'What sort of fuel consumption do you get from this?' and I thought a purchase was unlikely. But when he asked for my drivers license and retired to his office with it a financial transaction in return for product was looking inevitable. He invited me to sit in the Jag whilst he completed the paperwork 'As you will be warmer'. What a considerate salesman. He returned from his office bearing the goods. A meek protestation that I didn't really want the jumbo pack of points was obviously going to be a waste of time so I tamely promised to settle the bill within the required twenty eight days.
'Could I please count to five?' 'I'll do pi to nine decimal places if you like' This, however, had nothing to do with my grasp of mathematics and everything to do with my consumption of the demon drink. We sailed through that and with a cheery (I am entirely serious) 'Enjoy the rest of your evening' the transaction was over.
I had read that most traffic policing in New Zealand has nothing to do with road safety and was just a revenue gathering exercise. I now know this to be true. My getting done for 22kph over the speed limit for a distance of probably fifty metres (and I'm not just saying this, that is the maximum distance it could have been from turning out of a side road to having to slow for a roundabout) contributed to road safety not a jot. I'm not going to argue that a 50kph limit is absurd for most roads; which it is - I'm not even sure my car is capable of being driven so slowly. Have you tried to drive anywhere not going above 50kph? It's virtually impossible. If I drove from Albany to Papakura on suburban streets at or below the legal speed limit I'd have grown a beard by the time I arrived. I'm not really going to whinge about getting a speeding ticket although I would prefer not to have bothered. I mean one per fourteen years is hardly a burden, is it? The thing that struck me, however, is that there is no pretence that this is anything but a business transaction. The customer service skills were all there. Not once did I get any spiel about road safety. The ticket is made out like a bill. There are boxes for 'Offence 1, Offence 2 and Offence 3' with a 'Total' box at the bottom. Just like 'Bread, Milk and Weetbix' as per Woolworths.
I wonder if I can get Airpoints when I pay.
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