New Jersey E-ZPASS: $374.45 You Say? Come And Get It!
There’s no escaping them, those bureaucratic panhandlers on every corner and intersection of our lives. You know the ones I’m talking about. It’s Ticket Master and Stub Hub charging “handling fees”; it’s your Airbnb charging a “cleaning deposit” or a “late fee” if you’re out the door just twenty minutes after check-out time; it’s the electric company charging a “convenience fee” because you pay your monthly bill online; it’s Budget, Penske, and U-Haul charging a (supposedly) refundable damage deposit up front when you rent one of their obscenely overpriced trucks. It’s “maintenance fees” on your checking and/or savings account. It’s a hundred different ticky-tack fees and add-ons that companies charge the customer as “the price of doing business” while hiding behind the mask of inflation just so they can dip their ladles ever deeper into our money buckets over and over and over again.
They’re fee-festooned malefactors, deposit-fattened jackals, toll-bloated ticks, and there’s no getting away from them. They’re houseflies that feed on shit and spread disease. Uncle Joe called even them out in his 2023 State of the Union address, and the next day all across the social media horizon masses picked up the cry. “Hell, yeah, Joe! The corporate hyenas are nickel and diming us to death!” Well, I say no more! I say it’s time that we the villagers take up our torches and pitchforks and storm the castles of the money-grubbing nobles!
ARE YOU WITH ME?
The notice in front of me is from Credit Collection Services. It’s regarding: NEW JERSEY E-ZPASS.
Two months ago I got a wild hair and decided I wanted to drive from quiet, unassuming little Denton, Maryland, to the original site of the August 17-19, 1969, Woodstock Music and Art Fair in the even quieter and less-assuming berg of Bethel, in upstate New York. Never mind that my cheerful and British-accented companion Siri turned what should have been a four hour drive into a seven-and-a-half hour odyssey through such wonderlands as Newark and Wilmington, Delaware, and East Orange, New Jersey, but also skirted me past the laid back and culturally rich communities of Philadelphia and Manhattan. Siri also managed to find every possible toll road and toll bridge along the way. This I had more or less expected.
What I did not expect was an E-ZPASS toll bill five weeks later of nearly $200. A quick breakdown of the charges showed that the actual toll charges for my trip down Memory Lane totaled about $27. Considering I had ventured for almost eight hours and 440 miles round trip across the hinterlands of four states to reach the birthplace of the Woodstock nation, this was, I thought, a reasonable bill. What caused me to gag were the late fees attached to each toll, one of $25, three at $50 each. WTF!
Why were there late fees at all? Because E-ZPASS took a picture of my TEXAS license tag and that, in turn, referenced my Texas home address. Tee-hee-hee! Fun fact: I don’t live in Texas anymore! Haven’t for the last five months. I understand they had to send the toll bill to the address where my tag is registered, so okay, send the bill to Texas. Problem was— and still is —that address is no good. However, being the upright and outstanding citizen that I am, I left a forwarding address, the address where I’m living now, at least for a little while longer. So E-ZPASS sent the bill to my Texas address and the United States Postal Service, moving at glacial speed, rerouted the bill and forwarded it back to me in Maryland, and by golly, the bill eventually landed on my desk: a full week after the deadline to pay the original tolls had passed! So now, owing to the fact that the USPS apparently carried this much vaunted piece of mail to Texas and back by mule train, New Jersey E-ZPASS (aka the Mafia) wedded a monetary gotcha! to the original bill, a penalty late fee of $150!
Ah, but not to worry. On the back of the invoice there was a place to explain why I didn’t pay the original bill on time— basically, a waiver opportunity, assuming fair and rational overseers were in position to grant such a fiscal reprieve. Thus, I filled in the form with the explanation that I did not even receive the original bill until after its payment deadline had already passed and so I could not possibly have paid the tolls I owed on time. Not an excuse, not an attempt to wriggle out of paying what I legitimately owed. Just the truth. I went online and paid the $27. There. Honesty served. Fairness accommodated.
Today in the mail I received another notice regarding the tolls. A solicitation, no doubt, for me to save money next trip by purchasing an E-ZPASS. But no. This was a notice from Credit Collection Services:
“According to our client, New Jersey E-ZPASS, the above referenced amount remains unpaid. As a result, your account has been placed with this office for collection.”
Really. And just how much do New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware claim I owe for using their poorly marked, pot hole-riddled, bumper-to-bumper roads and bridges and then not getting their original bill until well after its payment deadline had come and gone? $175 you say?
“Please be advised, the Tolling Agency retains the right to issue a summons in connection to your unpaid toll violation(s). The Agency may designate an employee(s) or agent(s) of the Agency to be a complaining witness on behalf of the Agency and to cause a summons and complaint to issue to the extent permitted by, and pursuant to, the Rules Governing the Courts of New Jersey, Delaware, and Pennsylvania”
So this afternoon, after much internal deliberation— should I just go ahead and pay the bloodsuckers and be done with it, or should I tear up the bill and “fuhgettaboutit”? I decided to pay up and get these greedy lice out of my hair. They have a website, of course, so I hopped on the ‘net and made ready to pay electronically. And then came a brand new surprise. On the website it said I owe $374.45!!
WTF!!
I tried calling the number under their letterhead, but it’s Memorial Day weekend, so naturally they’re closed until sometime in 2024. The bastards. Well, here’s where I get to join the great non-violent revolutionaries of history in an act of righteous civil disobedience. Silent protest. You know who they are: Jesus, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr. I say, fuck it, New Jersey E-ZPASS, I’m going back to Texas and this time I’m not leaving a forwarding address. What, are you going to do about it, send Rocco and Vinnie to track me down and break my legs?
Good luck finding me, boys. Texas is a helluva big state!