How Being Happy Got Me Out of a Ticket

You Already Know the Answer if You Don’t Ask the Question

My family and I take vacations three times per year. In good years, we take four vacations a year. At one point I owned three timeshares and the only way to get good benefit from them is to use them. Otherwise, you will ultimately end up giving away your hard-earned money for vacations never realized. But I was fortunate enough to get out of them and now we just fund our vacations ourselves.

So there’s no wonder how we ended up in Miami shortly after COVID travel restrictions to Florida were loosened. My wife’s birthday was this past August and while we frequent Florida, we hadn’t really had a chance to stay right on the beach. This year was going to be different. I wanted her to see all that Miami has to offer on this special occasion.

But of course, I wanted to have an excellent time too. Consequently, I had always heard about these Cuban cigars. What is this fascination that everyone has with Cuban cigars? Well, there was only one way to find out. So I had it in the back of my mind to find these mysterious cigars. Mind you, I’m not even a smoker, but we were in Miami, so what the heck.

It was our first day there and while we were hunting for a great place to have a meal, we happened upon a restaurant that we had dined at before during one of our earlier trips to Fort Lauderdale. The name of the restaurant escapes me, but we recognized it immediately when we saw it. Flanigan’s Seafood Bar, that’s it!

In Miami, well, we were actually in Surfside, but Miami is just down the street. Anyway, the parking situation is the same. It’s at a premium. I have never seen where you have to pay for parking at the U.S. Post Office and at the grocery store. So I guess I should have taken a clue. But we were hungry and right next to the diner was a Cuban cigar shop. Luckily for us, I found a parking spot just steps away from the restaurant.

Flanigan’s was awesome. The atmosphere was light, lively and energetic. Many of the customers were having a grand old time, and how could you not? We were surrounded by incredible decorations from successful deep-sea fishing excursions. There were pictures of vacationers and seasoned fisherman alike, displaying their catches of the day. Parts of boats and other at-sea paraphernalia reminded customers they were fully engulfed into the beach-life setting.

We finished our meals and slurped down the last of our drinks, because it had been a long first day. We were ready to go back to the hotel. After leaving a generous tip, I ushered my family out to the rental car that was parked causally close. As we stepped down the three stairs that separated the diner from the concrete sidewalk, I handed the keys to my wife and said, “You guys go ahead. I’m stopping in here,” gesturing to the Cuban cigar store.

They walked on as I entered the store thinking about the Christmas gift my wife had purchased for me — an engraved box with my name, initials and the month and year of my birth on it. While it looks like a humidor, it’s not. It’s just an engraved box and I love it. And to me, that gave me permission to smoke a cigar. Now would be my chance to get one.

The salesmen and women in the store were wonderful. After being given a short lesson about the differences between regular cigars and a Cuban cigar, I made my purchase. I walked out $60 lighter in my pocket, but I had six of what were supposed to be some of the best product known to man.

I happily made my way to the Toyota Sequoia with the score of the day. As I approached, Donte was outside the vehicle waiting for me. I asked him what’s wrong because he had a worried look on his face. “You got a ticket,” he said, handing me the pink slip. “The cop is right there,” he said, pointing down the street about six cars away. Three cars had tickets on them as well. Without wasting time, I handed the cigars to Susan as she sat in the running SUV and I made my approach heading in the direction of the ticketing police officer.

Oddly, Donte followed along. Most times, he would have just jumped in the vehicle and waited for me. Often, I would have just told him to wait as well. But we both made our way to the policeman with ticket in tow.

I jokingly said to him, “Please don’t write me a ticket,” as he was writing another ticket for a parked sports car. He looked up, lowered his shades and asked if that was my car. I said no, my car is down the street. I didn’t see anywhere to pay for parking. In fact, I didn’t even know I had to pay for parking. The policeman, clad in a blue, short-pants uniform said, “Sir, there are signs all over the streets indicating parking-pay vendors.” I looked around and agreed. Man, you’re right.

Engaging in conversation, I told him, “This was our first day in Miami. We came to celebrate my wife’s birthday. We stopped to grab a bite to eat. I honestly didn’t know I had to pay for parking,” I explained.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“We just flew in from Baltimore,” I said.

Then he said the strangest thing. He asked me if I was happy? I said, “I am in Miami! It’s a beautiful, sunny day. The women are lovely and I just bought some Cuban cigars. Yes! I am happy.”

He asked, “Where is the ticket?”

I extended my arm with the ticket in my hand and gave it to him. I had no clue what was going to take place. But he wrote something on his handheld tablet, he drew a line through my ticket and then he tore it up. Donte and I gazed at each other and I immediately returned my attention to him.

“So many people are angry and upset these days. Had you told me you were mad about getting the ticket, you would just be paying the fine. But since you told me you are happy, I am rescinding the ticket.”

I can’t say I didn’t believe it, but I was thrilled. I thanked the policeman and Donte and I returned to the rental to explain to Susan what had just happened.

“Being Happy Got Me Out of a Ticket,” I told her and she said, “You’re joking, right?” I started the vehicle and the rest of the ride back to the hotel was uneventful. But later, I finally did get to see what all the fuss was about those Cuban cigars.

So the next time you find yourself in a sticky situation, be mindful if you want to get to enjoy your Cubans, a smile and a kind word can go a long way.

About the author

Julius Evans has a Master of Arts degree in National Security and Strategic Studies from the U.S. Naval War College, Newport, RI; a Master of Arts degree in Strategic Communication and Leadership from Seton Hall University, South Orange, NJ; a Bachelor of Science degree in Mass Communication and Journalism from City University, Bellevue, WA and an Associate of Arts degree in Liberal Studies from Central Texas College, Killeen, Texas.

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