Speeding virgin no more

Oh, gosh.

I've been so busy having fun for the past couple of weeks that I actually forgot to blog.

For instance, last week I got my first speeding ticket for going 34 in a 25 mph zone.

A friendly policeman appeared from behind a dumpster and flashed his lights and I got to pull over to the side of the road next to a park in Rossmoor while "all the other parents" drove past me in the opposite direction I was headed towards.

The whole time I'm sweating not just because I was getting my first ticket, but also now my kid, who would soon be patiently waiting for me at school, may also soon be wondering where I was.

The efficient, well-groomed police man approached my car with what seemed to me, to be a gleeful spring in his step. I wondered if the word "Ka-ching" actually came out of his mouth as he pulled me over.

"License and registration, please?"

I lean over to get them from my glove compartment, but fumble with the door so it fell open with a bang, my spare tampons bouncing into view.

He jerks his head from my window and said he'd be back in a bit. I try to remind myself he's just being polite and giving me space, but I'm despising him for making this longer than it needed to be -- now, just because of some tampons.

"Oh, good." I say while I mutter "Because I was hoping you'd say that. That way we can really prolong this humiliation, because I don't think the head of the PTA has actually passed us, yet."

He walks back to his car and chats amiably with someone on his cell phone. More shiny minivans drive toward me with the cop parked behind me. I sat obediently in my driver's seat clutching my license and registration holding it for what seems like 10 minutes while he finishes chatting on the phone and, finally, ambles back to my car window.

"Oh, you found it?" He asks. (No. This is my personal contact info. I like you so much I really just want to make a date so we can do this all again, real soon.)

"Yep." I say in tone I hope sounds more neutral than it sounded to me.

So, I'm sitting there watching the entire district PTA drive by s-l-o-w-l-y and tell myself that I don't mind being this Rossmoor sheriff's "Lesson Du Jour" because I believe everyone has the right to a good education, especially the ones driving Hummers at 48 mph behind his back while he is busy ticketing me for doing 34 mph.

I'm not like many other women...

I hate men in uniforms. Especially ones carrying guns. Don't ask me why, but I find that kind of power imbalance something of a buzz-kill. But, I hated Barbie, growing up, so, what do I know?

(I know not to get caught over 25 mph in this stretch of road. That's what I know, now.)

I know it's probably just my issues with authority, but, to me, this guy seems so smug and white and cocky. And it occurs to me that it would really, really suck to be a minority right now.

He returns and says cheerfully "Sooooo, which elementary school were you driving to?"

I think, "Got audacity?"

I smile weakly and pretend I don't notice I'm just his little statistic.

It sinks in I'm officially getting my first traffic ticket, ever, and decide to run this fact by him, gingerly, letting him know that I've been driving since I was 16 and this is, actually, the first and only moving violation I've ever gotten. That, and the fact that I have driven this same route for 6 years, twice a day and have never once gotten one ticket for speeding, ever...so, could I please just not have one now, please?

I hold my breath. He looks merciful -momentarily- and pauses to consider letting me off the hook, however seems to decide against it as he glances at his watch...and goes back to his first decision with his best "But, I just made my quota before my break" tone of voice, "We-ell...we're just looking out for your safety, Ma'am."

I politely thank him for this and then s-l-o-w-l-y, finally drive the other 10 blocks till I get to the one elementary school I was originally headed to, where I find my child happily playing with the other kids patiently still waiting for their moms, too.

I tell myself how fortunate this is how it all turned out. I mean, perhaps this man did thwart disaster, today.

Perhaps, even though I was ticketed on a wide road next to an empty park, without one child in view (school wasn't out, yet.) it could have been that one day a mentally challenged hookie player playing hockey randomly ran out into traffic to catch an errant hockey puck, right? I could have squashed him flat due to clocking 34 mph in a 25 mph zone.

It could have been so much worse.

So, in the end, I'm so very grateful for how everything turned out.

I breathe deeply and find a way to feel fine about paying a fee of 200$ and the 100$ for a day of traffic school so that it doesn't drive my insurance up several hundred dollars next year all so that I can remember to not drive 34 mph when the sign says to go 25 mph.

This is all good.

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PS. NEWSFLASH: FOR THE RECORD I BEAT THIS TICKET!

I did so by researching my particular traffic citation violation number on the internet and by checking out a great book from the local library called "How To Beat Your Traffic Ticket." -- It had a wealth of useful information in it to fight the insanity that is our traffic courts.

READ ABOUT DOING SO HERE.