In one corner of our fair county lies a lovely little hamlet known as well, lets not mention names.

Oft have I marveled, while passing through that charming village, at its well-shaded streets, neatly manicured medians and pleasant parklands. Ive also noted the size of its police force, relative to population. And Ive wondered:

How do they afford all that?

A few months ago, I learned the answer, which is that those two features the upscale amenities and the number of patrol cars are directly related.

The occasion was a visit to traffic court in one of the towns nice, new, modern buildings, constructed just for that purpose and designed to accommodate more than a hundred people waiting to plead their cases. On that particular day, an otherwise unremarkable Thursday, every seat was filled.

I found myself there because, a couple months earlier, Id been cited for running a red light even though the light was yellow when I entered the intersection, and I was more than halfway through before it turned red.

Of course, if it had been a normal yellow light, I should have been all the way through. Thinking about the timing led me to conclude, as I told the ticketing officer, that it must be the shortest yellow light in history.

He was unmoved. Nevertheless, I believed I had been cited unfairly and decided to fight it.

In preparation for my day in court, I researched the national standard for yellow lights, which turns out to be about five seconds. I also went back to that intersection, parked at a gas station, and timed the yellow for 10 consecutive cycles. It averaged just under three seconds.

Armed with several videos, and now believing myself fully in the right, I took a day off work and showed up at the appointed time only to find myself awash in a sea of humanity. When my name was finally called, my day in court turned out to be more like two minutes with a harried city prosecutor, which went something like this:

Prosecutor: Youre charged with running a red light.

Me: I didnt do it, and I think I can prove it.

Prosecutor: We can knock the charge down to a non-moving violation. Your fine will be $122 instead of $178, with no points against your license.

Me: But I didnt do anything wrong.

Prosecutor: Youre welcome to come back next month and tell that to the judge.

Me: So I have to take another day off work? What if I lose?

Prosecutor: Then youll have to pay the $178, plus youll get the points.

Me: Where do I pay the $122?

As you can see, this is a highly organized, well-thought-out, perfectly legal and extremely lucrative scam. Youre ticketed for some dubious violation and then theyve got you over a barrel.

But, hey, at least its a very nice barrel.

Rob Jenkins is a local freelance writer and the author of four books, including Family Man: The Art of Surviving Domestic Tranquility, available at Books for Less in Buford and on Amazon. E-mail Rob at rjenkinsgdp@yahoo.com.

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JENKINS: Traffic scammed in suburban utopia - Gwinnettdailypost.com