There’s something you should know about me. I am a very effective driver.
What I mean by “effective” is that I don’t generally speed in vast way, but I always drive at least the speed limit. I never get tickets, and I haven’t been involved in a wreck since my youthful days. I turned thirty, and for some reason my need for speed disappeared. Well, unless I was test driving a really cool car. And, well, until today.
I’m off work today and one of my tasks was to meet with my doctoral advisor. We have a laundry list of tasks to complete and I was driving to the university too quickly. I suppose I just wanted to get to Stillwater, “get ‘er done” and get home. It’s Thanksgiving Eve, for crying out loud.
Then my husband called while I was en route. He was headed to the golf course and though he left his prescription eye glasses in my car. Could I look?
“Oh, sure babe…I’d love too, but right now I’m getting pulled over by the highway patrol. I’ll call you back.”
“Uh…okay.”
I pulled over in an efficient manner. I unzipped my backpack quickly, immediately found my driver’s license and insurance card, and had both the drivers and passenger windows completely down before the patrolman even reached my car.
As he leaned down, he was met with the sight of my arm fully extended, offering him my identification and promise that I was keeping myself and others protected with insurance. He looked like he was about to say something so I just jumped in and cut him off.
“It’s completely my fault. I was speeding. I’m going to a meeting at the university and I got in a hurry. I’m very sorry and this is totally a “NO CONTEST” situation. You’re right, I was wrong. Here’s all the information you need.”
He hesitated for about 2 seconds. Then said, “Uh, ma’am, I clocked you going 83 in a 75 zone.”
“I have no doubt that you did. I’m sorry you had to waste your energy pulling me over.”
[slight pause] “Okay. Well, I’ll be right back.”
I called Mick while the patrolman was making his way back to his car to do whatever it is they do. He probably needed to radio in my information and see if I was on an “overly compliant and weird” list of people they kept somewhere.
“Mick, I’m getting a ticket. I’ll call you when I’m done. Sorry.” I hung up. I sat there and thought about the dangerous situations highway patrolmen place themselves every single time they stop a car. I glanced in the rear view mirror and smiled slightly at the “forest ranger-like tilt” of the patrolman’s hat as he made his way back to my car.
“Did you know your back glass brake light is out?”
“I hardly think that’s possible. The car is only one year old. Are you sure??”
He looked at me and hesitated slightly. “Well, I guess I can go look once more.”
What was I doing?? Making him go check my brake light when cars were speeding past us at 75 mph!? My compliance factor was taking a nosedive.
I tapped the brakes a couple of times, making sure he was looking at my back glass while I was testing them.
He came back. “Yes, it’s still out.”
“Oh, he’s just a little bit funny,” I thought. “Good for him. I deserved that.”
He handed me my cards back, along with a computer generated ticket-looking-thingy.
“Here’s your warning for speeding. Please get your brake light fixed. And, your financial obligation for your warning is to slow down and drive the speed limit, okay?”
I swear he was smiling more than he should have. It was as if he was poking just a little bit fun of me. But okay, I did secretly make fun of his hat-tilt, so I deserved it.
“Wow – THANK YOU! Really!”
“You’re welcome. Have a good holiday.”
Well, okay, officer – I will NOW!
***
Thanks to InventorChris for providing part of the featured image.