I rarely speed. Honest. At least on the highway. I rarely accelerate beyond the "five over" that is generally allowed. Apparently side streets are a different issue for me. My foot, that is usually not lead, was quite heavy this morning on my commute into work. I think you know where this is headed. I hate the feeling you get when noticing flashing lights pull up behind you. If you've ever been pulled over, you know exactly what I was feeling. Dread. Embarrassment. Stupidity. Actually, all I could hear was the "cha-ching" of dollar signs. I could almost see the money drifting out of my wallet and into the city of Robbinsdale. I'm all for contributing to my city, but not in this way. PLEASE not in this way. The officer was actually quite nice and for this I was thankful. She didn't make me feel stupid and I didn't even feel like crying like I thought I would. As I sat there waiting for her to come back (why do they make you sit and wait FOREVER?!) I thought about a conversation I just had with my family a few days ago. The one in which I claimed quite fervently that I didn't speed. The one in which I adamantly declared that I was a great driver. Isn't it ironic....don't you think?
Even though the officer was nice and I was respectful, she still came back to my car with a white slip of paper that I didn't want to take from her. As she was handing me the ticket she said, "now get to where you are going safely and have a better day." Thanks.