Christmas in SeptemberPosted by in General
Picture if you will, it’s my lunch hour…and I scurry across the street from my building with my keys in hand. I begrudgingly leave my awesome parking spot (parking where I work is a blood sport- have I mentioned that?) and crank up the tunes on my ipod. I head towards the center of town running through my mental list of errands I need to get done (post office, cvs, grocery store). There is this road that kind of connects the campus I work on with the town next to it. The speed limit on this corridor is 25 but people rarely go that slow and I am no exception. It’s easy to hit 40-45 mph on this road because it’s not really residential, but it’s not really rural. It’s hard to explain.
Anyway…today I happen to be cresting the small hill in the middle of the road when I see a motorcycle cop sitting there in the one street that intersection this section of road. He’s facing me. “Shit!” I proclaim to myself. I do not slam on my brakes despite that being my first instinct but I definitely lift off the gas. I look down at my spedometer and I am going about 35 after lifting from the gas. “Great!”
I pass the intersection and keep glancing into my review mirror, fully expecting to see the motorcycle and his flashing blue lights behind me. And they never come. Did I deserve a ticket? Heck yes. Did I even get pulled over? No. I will consider that my Christmas present from the police department. Thank you very much!
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