Come an’ get me, copper!

English: Texas using a laser speed detection gun.

Image via Wikipedia

The cop saw me before I saw him.

He had a radar detector. I had astigmatism.

Hypnotized by the swirl of his ruby-red lights, I pulled over to the side.

He got out of his car, parked across the street, and swaggered toward me.

My chance to make a getaway.

Instead, I idled in confusion. Surely, I had slowed down before the radar had detected me.

Under the circumstances, surely you did not. And don’t call me Shirley.

“License and registration.”

Two good friends of mine. Or, so I thought.

My license picked a terrible time not to cooperate. When I tried to force it from the plastic holder, it wedged itself inside it.

“C’mon. C’mon,” I muttered. “Move!”

The cop took two steps back.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so stressed today.”

Finally, my mug slid from the slit. License nirvana. As I held it in my hand, God, or one of my internal voices, spoke to me.

“Tomorrow, take the parallel road with the 45-mph speed limit.”

After my divine revelation, it was time to find the registration. I opened the glove compartment and wrestled with the envelope that was stuck between the driver’s manual and a hard place.

Are you ready to rumble?

I tackled the envelope during the third round and handed it Mr. Cop.

“I don’t need the envelope. I just need the registration.”

My fumbling fingers finally gripped the registration. I handed both IDs to Mr. Cop.

“I’m so sorry, Officer. I’m so stressed today. My son got a “D” on a statistics test. We don’t know if he’s going to pass the class. We don’t even know if he’s going to the class. Blah, blah, blah.”

He steps back two more paces.

“You were going forty-five in a thirty-mile zone.”

“You’re absolutely right. I did a bad thing.” Indistinct muttering. “I’m just so stressed this morning. I don’t know where my head is today.”

I looked in the backseat. My head wasn’t there.

“I can’t hear you. Can you speak louder.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m not myself today.”

Who are you then – Gladys or Felicia?

I don’t know. I was Gladys yesterday. And Felicia’s at the hairdresser.

Mr. Cop hands the papers back to me. They help lunatics like me stay in the country. The illegal immigrants are the sane ones.

“I’m going to give you a warning this time.”

“Oh, God, thank you so much. I promise I’ll never speed again.”

Fingers crossed behind my back.

“Okay then.” He turns and runs for the safety of his car.

With hands shaking, I revved the engine and sped away . . . at a 25-mph clip.

I checked the mirror. Mr. Cop’s car was still parked and dark.

His hands are probably shaking, too.

Have you gotten any tickets lately?

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18 Comments Come an’ get me, copper!

  1. Pingback: Lauren Salkin

  2. ReformingGeek

    It’s your lucky day.  Now go buy a lottery ticket.

    A cop pulled in behind me today and I really had to pay attention to my speed.  30-mile zones are brutal!  Fortunately, I was within the accepted parameters and didn’t get pulled over.  Or, since the copy pulled into the police station, maybe he just wanted to go home.

    1. Lauren

      What are the accepted parameters?

      I had a bored cop. They’re the worst. It’s good to get a cop who’s on his way home or to the donut shop.

  3. Lisapatb

    Thankfully no and that would not make my day.  You were lucky to get a warning. Most states need the money and love to hand out those tickets! 

    1. Lauren

      I’m glad that you’ve been staying under the radar, as it were. Yes. I was lucky to get a warning. I was really stressed that day, as I posted. This was one of those times when being a neurotic was a help. I was a bit scary.

  4. Pingback: Lisa

  5. Jayne

    Nothing can make me want to upchuck a week’s worth of meals like seeing those lights in my rear view mirror.  I don’t even try to talk them out of it anymore.   Fortunately, all these years of living the slow, country life have slowed my driving down, as well.

    Congrats on dodging that ticket.   Those suckers are expensive.   

  6. Alexis Wilke

    Note that agreeing with the cop when he’s asking you that you’ve done something bad is the worst you can do! It’s like accepting the sentence before it was pronounced. Good that it let it go though. 😎

    As for the parameters, there are none really… The cop’s mood probably. 😎
    Here they say you can go about 5 mi. over the speed limit and be good. But that’s not exactly like you can follow that to the letter.

    I think it will be best once we can get auto-driven cars (car with computers that drive for us.) It’s getting there!

    1. Lauren

      I’m going to stick to the five above rule. I was damn lucky I didn’t get a ticket. I was honestly so stressed that day that I couldn’t shut up. My mouth was speeding, too. I’m surprised I didn’t get a ticket for that. : )
      If I had a computer car, I’d probably have to stop and reboot it every couple of miles.

  7. lunaticg

    Maybe the cop seen you shaken and he feel sorry about that.

    I have many cops friend and they always tell me how they only give a warning because they think that people are first time offender.
    Lucky you. 😉

    1. Lauren

      I haven’t seen that cop since he gave me the warning, and I’ve been following the speed limit, too. I know as soon as I exceed the above five mph rule, the cop will be there with swirling red lights and ticket book in hand.

      I should have more cop friends.

  8. Pingback: Lauren Salkin

  9. Pingback: Lauren Salkin

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