I was doin' ninety. I drive like a grandmother (E2 shouts this from the rooftops). And yet, as the cop pulled me over and walked over with her very short hair and regulation hat (on correctly) . . . I knew I was going to get a ticket. For some reason, female policepersons do not like me. Do not like me at all. I would like to blame it on the hair . . . but it was before the hair. Maybe it's how I smell, but probably it's my attitude. Well, definitely it's my attitude.
"Do you know how fast you were going?" Of course I knew how fast I was going . . . well, that's not true, I don't actually know exactly how fast . . . but I slowed down when I saw your blue car with the flashers, didn't I? Which is what got me in trouble. The car in front of me was going faster, but didn't slow down as fast, or as obviously. In my guilt (at going 72 mph), I slowed down and changed lanes behind a truck. I really had to slow down to get behind the truck, which Ms. Policewoman took to mean that I was going really, really fast. As E2, ask my brothers . . . I never go really fast.
So I was written up for ten over. I have to go to court three hours away. I think it's two points. All for going to Kalamazoo on a Saturday morning. I really should have stayed in bed.
My sister's house it cute though . . . so well, worth the trip. The trip that will now be called the "$1000 trip to Kalamazoo" (by the time the insurance company gets done with me).
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E2 sounds kind of cranky. I hope she had to make the pledge to not be crabby too. :) I know I should not laugh, but you do drive like a grandma.
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