As revealed in my last post, when I thought I'd be hanging my hardened-criminal head in shame by now, I was in traffic court last week. The charge: Speeding. My first ticket ever. It's not that I don't usually speed. Oh, no, I speed. Every day. Not breakneck speeding or anything. And not if my son's in the car - I keep the speedometer right around where it should be when he's with me.
But when it's just me and my Honda, I'm always going a little too fast, even when there's no need for it. I just can't get out of that rat race mode. Plus I usually have the music cranked, which, I admit, gets my adrenaline going.
On the day in question, I'm rushing home from work to pick up Ciaran and relieve my mother-in-law from a long day of baby-sitting
So, when the driver in the opposite lane isn't letting me pass to switch lanes it really peeves me off. Then, when I slow down to let him by, HE slows down too. There's nothing that pisses me off more than that - okay maybe tailgaters - tailgaters are total a-holes.
By now, I'm enraged. I put my pedal to the metal to try to pass him once again, but surprise, surprise, he speeds up too! I now start gunning it down this big hill, gaining pretty good momentum when - urk!! There's a cop standing right in front of me pointing his trusty laser thingie in my direction.
Bust-ed!
Now, 8 months later, I find myself at Old City Hall, having refused to just pay the fine and get the demerit points added. 'Cause
Anyway, as I'm waiting my turn to talk to the prosecutor, I listen in on discussions going on between other prosecutors and law-breaking peeps and I hear deals being made left, right & center. Ok, I say to myself, I'm willing to play this game.
Then, it's my turn. The prosecutor takes my info without a word and starts circling & scribbling stuff on a piece of paper. He looks up at me, all serious and I'm thinking, that's it, I'm totally screwed. They're throwing the book at me for sure.
Then, in a barely audible voice, he tells me "there's no evidence", so the ticket will be dropped. I don't really understand, but I'm sure as hell not questioning it. Yeehaw!! I'm free, baby! All I have to do is pop into the courtroom and he'll call my name and like, officially withdraw the ticket in front of the judge and everything.
So, I'm chilling in the courtroom (literally, since someone had the decency to install an a/c unit in there), when who comes in and sits on the bench right beside me? The cop who pulled me over!! I know it's him and he looks at me like he knows it's me too, or is my mind playing tricks on me? How could he possibly remember me after all that time, all those tickets he's surely issued?
My mind starts racing once again. I start imagining one of those dramatic made-for-TV-movie moments where right as I'm about to be cleared, the officer jumps up and shouts, Your honor! This has been a grave injustice of the law - book this woman immediately! I mean, I did almost run him down that day, totally not expecting to see anyone standing in the middle of road as I sped down it. I actually remember thinking, Who is this idiot standing in the street and what's with the funny hat, right before I realized what was happening.
But, this is Canada, not a TV drama, and our court is really, really boring. So when they called my name and said I was free to go, the judge even gave me quite a pleasant smile and bid me a good day.
The moral of the story? No matter how much of a douche the other drivers are, cops are super tricky, so don't speed. But if you do get pulled over, stay calm, act remorseful and choose the court option. I may have just gotten lucky, but it was worth it for me and I did learn a valuable lesson; never wear a jacket and long pants in Old City Hall in mid-July unless you're carrying extra antiperspirant. Also, Marilyn Manson is not good driving music.
