You’re pulled over by the cops.
That’s what happened to me a few minutes ago. I was ticketed for going 49 in a 30. Even worse, I was pulled over in, literally, the exact same spot a month ago. That time, the officer let me off with a seatbelt violation—no points. This time, I wasn’t so lucky.
I know … I know—how does one get two tickets for the same violation in the same spot? I’m not sure. All I can say if I’ve been driving this stinkin’ road for almost a decade, without ever getting pulled over. It’s long and straight, and while the speed limit is 30, I whispers out, “Drive me 50 … I can handle it.”
I’ve had tickets before, and 99% of the time the officer is pleasant and accomodating. Today, the guy was anything but. He was gruff and ordery, and as he wrote up my ticket I smelled cigarette smoke. I peered at my rearview window and saw him writing the ticket while taking a puff. When he returned, I couldn’t fully help myself. As he walked away from the car, I said, “Police officers are allowed to smoke?”
He said, “Yeah.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s surprising.”
He wasn’t pleased. “What does that have to do with you speeding?” he said.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just curious.”
Admittedly, my comments were dumb. I was just irked.
And I still am.