I’ve been pulled over twice in my life. Once for rolling a stop sign and once for speeding. My second offense had terrible timing.
I got pulled over the same day I discovered my son was not invited to a party. My man worked late. Again. And I offended a Target guest for changing my infant’s diaper in his stroller.
It was one battle after another.
After I finished rocking baby to sleep, I ran for the door. It was half past eleven, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of the house. I didn’t want to break down in front of an audience.
I can thank my traditional European upbringing for that. Both my parents were loving, but stoic. So, I learned to conceal my emotions early on. This emotional reflex followed me into adulthood.
Whenever times get rough, I go for a long drive. My car is my refuge.
I grabbed my headphones, keys, and darted for the open air. I was zoning out to Holding On For Life by Broken Bells. Sobbing. Crying. Snot faced. I didn’t notice I was going ten miles over the speed limit. Until I saw the flashing red light.
Wiping my nose with my shirt sleeve, I pulled over, and put my hands on the steering wheel where the officer could see them. Then I just sat there. Waiting. And waiting. It seemed like twenty minutes passed before he came to my window.
Hurry up and ask me for my license and registration already. Please God, don’t let him shine his flashlight in my face. He’ll find out I was ugly crying and then I’ll really be humiliated.
The officer let me off with a warning. He was sympathetic. Guess I got lucky? Guess all the tears and confusion of the day were not wasted.
Have you ever wiggled your way out of a speeding ticket? Were tears involved?