This is getting ridiculous
So I got pulled over again Saturday night. AGAIN! This is ... what? Three times in the past six months? WTF? I am a TOTALLY GOOD DRIVER!
OK. Maybe not totally good. But DEFINITELY not totally bad!
So I'm on the phone with my mother of all people, and I see my favorite red and blue flashing lights in my back window, the lights that seem to follow me everywhere I go. "Shit," I say.
Mom: EXCUSE ME? What did you say?
Me: Shit. I'm getting pulled over. (Pause.) DAMMIT! I cannot believe I am getting pulled over right now!
Mom: What did you do?
Me: I killed someone. The body's in the trunk.
Mom: Are you kidding?
Me: About the dead body? No. Listen, I gotta go.
Me: I didn't do ANYTHING! Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go. I'll call you back.
I flip the phone shut and, to my utter surprise, a HOT cop strolls up to my window. I actually got a hot cop this time! The last three were grumpy, middle-aged men with limps, cops who couldn't take down a senior citizen in a wheelchair if their lives depended on it. This one looks like he has plenty of energy, if you know what I mean. He is yummmmmmy.
Officer: Did you know you ran a red light?
Me (batting my big green eyes): Really? I did?
Officer: You didn't know that?
Me: Well ... I thought it was yellow!
He checks my insurance and takes my license back to his car, and the second he walks away I'm like crap, crap, CRAP! Why did I say it was a yellow light? I admitted to speeding through a yellow/almost red light! You're supposed to slow DOWN at yellow lights! I totally just admitted to breaking the law! WHY AM I AN IDIOT?
He's still in the car, so I text message my mom: "I AM NOT A CRIMINAL!"
He's STILL in the car. If I have learned anything from my frequent brushes with the law, it's that if the cop takes longer than five seconds, it means you're getting a ticket. So imagine my surprise when he comes back, leans his delicious head through the window and goes: "All right, you have a great driving record, so I'm going to let you go with a warning. No more running red lights!"
Me: Wha--oh! Really? Thank you so much! Seriously! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Have a great night! Thank you!
And then I speed off--exercising liberal use of my blinker, of course--before he can change his mind. Or realize that the address on my license hasn't been updated since I moved, oh, 16 months ago. Oops.