Welcome to Totally Tortelicious—a review of some of the more bizarre legal stories making news—and there’s certainly no shortage of them.
Don’t be Calling that Temporary Restaurant a “Lemonade Stand”…Seven-year old Julie Murphy received an apology from a county official in Oregon this week, after having her lemonade stand shut down by Multnomah County health officials during a recent arts fair in Portland.
The little girl, whose mother was helping her run the stand, was approached by a health official at the Last Thursday art fair on Alberta Street, because she didn’t have the $120 temporary restaurant license. Imagine that? According to a report by AP, Julie had been in business about 20 minutes when a “lady with a clipboard” approached the stand, and asked to see their license. When her mother explained that they didn’t have one, the clipboard-toting official told them they would need to leave or face a $500 fine.
As it turns out, if you want to run a lemonade stand in Oregon you need a permit, even if you’re running one on your front lawn. Eric Pippert, the food-borne illness prevention program manager for the state’s public health division, said “When you go to a public event and set up shop, you’re suddenly engaging in commerce,” he said. “The fact that you’re small-scale I don’t think is relevant.” Absolutely right, I say. Who does she think she is? Why should seven-year old entrepreneurs get a break?
And what about the fact that Julie’s lemonade stand was contributing to visual pollution, and obstructing pedestrian traffic? Did she have a permit to build on that site?
I would also like to know if she was offering sugar-free lemonade as an alternative for people who can’t use sugar and don’t want to be discriminated against. And how did she arrive at 50 cents per cup—that seems a bit steep, frankly. I think it’s possible price gouging—taking advantage of people who are hot and thirsty who may few options.
But then, maybe she was driven to do it by her family. Maybe she was forced into raising money in order to supplement her income. God only knows what her allowance is. I mean this could constitute child labor, exploitation and cruelty. What were the supposed hours of operation of the lemonade stand—how long was her shift? And were they covered for workplace accidents?
I don’t know, it’s a tough one. The facts really aren’t clear. I just don’t know how those county officials get through their days…
Those $5-Foot-Longs Were Just Too Tempting. Two more enterprising youth suffered a legal setback (a deserved one) recently, when they were busted for using counterfeit $20 bills at a local Subway restaurant. It was an inside job, apparently.
The two Pennsylvania teenagers allegedly made the counterfeit dough on their computers which they then took to Subway when their accomplice was on duty—so they could exchange the dummy money for the real thing.
Daniel Buskirk, 19, and Adam Wehr, 18 were motivated by the cost of upcoming car repairs apparently. And they couldn’t get jobs?
Good thing they didn’t set up a lemonade stand.
Sickness in Motion? Question. If you were driving a bus load of school children and you were overcome with nausea, would you:
a) Stop the bus in the nearest safe area, get out and throw up; or
b) Keep the bus going but open the door and try and vomit while bus is moving?
Well, the correct answer, as you probably guessed, is b. At least that’s what the driver of one school bus in Illinois thought. Problem was he fell out of the bus—could be why they normally keep the doors closed on moving vehicles. The bus, predictably, kept going, crashed, and rolled into a ditch with all the kids on board.
Not surprisingly, some of the children were injured. As for the driver—who knows.
Consequently, the mother of one teenager on board, who suffered a fractured ankle, is suing the Illinois Center School Bus Company. Nevertheless, a spokesperson told the media that safety remains “a top priority.” Serious cause for concern I fear.