I am still working on getting my pictures edited and uploaded for your viewing pleasure. However I thought in the mean time I would entertain you with a story of driving hijinks. Or not really.
Yesterday during my lunch break I drove my car into the town next to where I work. I have a PO BOX there and I wanted to pick up my 9 days worth of mail, fill up the gas tank, get lunch, and do some shopping. So I leave the post office and go to get gas, then head towards the little shopping center. The light in front of me turns yellow. At this point, it’s what we would call a pretty stale yellow light. So I make the extremely poor decision to go through it. The minute my rear tires cross over the crosswalk into the intersection? The light- she turns red. I cringe and say SHIT under my breath. Then I look up into my rearview mirror- and I see it. That dreaded dreaded thing…the blue and red lights of a cop pulling me over. Again I muttered SHIT! under my breath and made my way to the right so I could pull over. What you don’t know is I have heard rumors about said police officers in this town being kinda of hard-asses. So granted I had never had experience with them- I had these rumors swimming in my head and I was starting to panic just ever so slightly.
This is only the second time I have ever been pulled over…the first time was about 8 years ago for speeding…but it was on federal land and I was being pulled over by a federal officer (which was actually good because it didn’t mean points on my driving record or anything like that). All I could think of was SHIT this is DEFINITELY a moving violation- there are no bones about it. And I did KNOW better and shouldn’t have gone through the light. It was my fault and I had no defense or excuse and that I am pretty much screwed.
I get flustered and roll down my drivers window…forgetting that most officers now approach on the passenger side of the car. So I rolled down my passenger window and hand him my registration and proof of insurance- which I had just retrieved from the glove box. He asks for my license- so I am fumbling through my purse looking for my wallet (now I have the smallest purse- all I can fit in it is my checkbook, my wallet and my cell phone and if I am lucky a pack of gum or tictacs). Why couldn’t I find my wallet…oh wait there its. Thank goodness. I may have been panicking just a wee little bit. The officer asks me if I am Amy and if I still live at (my residence). I say yes to both and hand him my license. He asks me what I am doing in (town). I told him I work nearby and often come in on my lunch break. Today I happened to be going to the drugstore across the way. He told me very nicely that he was pulling me over for running the red light. And then proceeded to tell me that (town) has their yellow lights set really quick – that they change very quickly and that the minimum red-light running fine is $381.00- he knows because he was just coming back from court on that for another person. Inside my head I was yelling SHIT- I can’t afford to waste $400 on me being stupid!!! I nodded and apologized. AND THEN HE TOLD ME HE WAS GOING TO JUST GIVE ME A WARNING…because I didn’t look like someone who ran red lights all the time. Later this would make me chuckle…does a red-light runner have a police profile…what do they look like?? I probably thanked the officer about sixteen million times… profusely.
So…as the officer was pulling away and I was putting my license back in my wallet I notice that he happens to be a motorcycle officer. My dad has a theory that motorcycle officers don’t give warnings. If they pull you over you are going down for the ticket. Well I just proved him wrong and when I go to tell him this later that night the only thing he has to say is WHY WERE YOU RUNNING RED LIGHTS? And HE ONLY GAVE YOU A WARNING? Making me feel like I am seventeen or something.
When I told my coworker why I was slightly late getting back from lunch, she said “How ironic is it that you just drove like 1000 miles round trip to go to Vegas yet you get pulled over like 3 miles from work the next day.” Ironic indeed. Ironic but lucky.