Monday, October 21, 2013
I was in the left lane. Left lane means fast lane, right? Right.
Plus the right lane was filled with these old people going, like, the speed limit. What's with that shit?
I was just cruisin' along with only one thing on my mind. Had the music up, beautiful day, what could be better than getting to where I was headed?
Then I saw them, you know, flashing red and blue lights? Yeah, there was a cop right behind me. I didn't even look down to see how fast I was going, I just knew I was in a hell of a lot of trouble, plus I was texting, not punch the little button texting, but hands-free voice texting, but my phone was in my lap. I so knew I was screwed.
I made my way in between the line of Flinstone cars over to the shoulder of the highway, stopped and pushed the little button to put my window down. I leaned over, reached into the glove compartment and got my registration, but I had no insurance card..........anywhere. I was going to jail, convinced of it, knew it, ready to be handcuffed.
The deputy came up to my window, looked at me and smiled. I hate when they do that, you KNOW they're going to rake you over the coals when they do that.
"Ma'am, how are you today?"
He laughed a little.
"Are you from around here?"
Thinking now, "Dumbass, I know you ran my plates already. You know exactly where I live."
"I just had a black E class Mercedes pass me going 101."
I could only look at him. I had NO idea what to say. Not one word entered my mind, not one. For me, that's a very strange feeling. Actually, that's not true. I thought, for a split second, if I asked him to spank me instead of giving me a ticket, he might let me go.
He kept smiling at me, I kept looking at him. He never asked for my license, my registration or my insurance. He just kept smiling.
Then he began to nod his head as if he was telling me what to say.
"You were just trying to pass those slow cars weren't you?"
"That's what I thought. By the way, beautiful car. Go ahead and pass, and, Ma'am, slow down a little."
He smiled again and walked away.
I sat there for a minute, not really sure what to do, what to think. That shit doesn't happen, especially if I was going as fast as he said I was.
He got in his car and flew down the highway, blowing by every car in sight.
I processed a minute and then thought, "Ok, I'll take it down ten miles an hour."
And off I went.
But, damn, no handcuffs?