a $102 lesson

So last night after participating in a very good discussion on Love in the Time of Cholera at book club, I left the coffee shop on Ingersoll around 8 p.m. A quick jaunt north on 31^st street took me to the interstate that will whisk me home. I’m cruising along, thinking about work and absent mindedly humming along to the radio.

Just as I reach the river bridge, I notice a car on the left shoulder. Someone having car trouble. I switch lanes to be polite and give them as much room as possible. By the time I safely maneuver to the center lane I’m a few hundred yards closer. I see the street light glimmer off the light bar on the roof of this not-so-stranded police car. I normally have an uncanny knack for spotting police cars – just ask Ryan – so I was shocked this one caught me off guard.

I was even more shocked when I noticed him apply the brake and shift out of park. Was he going to pull me over? Just as I got within a few feet I saw the red and blue lights jump to life. Yep. He sure was. Honestly, I was only going like five miles over the speed limit! Doesn’t this guy have something better to do?! As I’m pulling over I notice two other sets of red and blue lights flashing in the distance ahead. Apparently the department is a little short on their ticket quota for the month. By the time the officer reached my car I had my license, registration and proof of insurance.

“Good evening,” said the light shining in my window. “I clocked you going 73 in a 55.”

My jaw dropped and I did one of those hand-over-mouth gasps you see in old movies when something tragic happens. Only took a few seconds to do the math in my head. Almost 20 miles an hour over the speed limit. He could revoke my license.

I’m not going to lie – I speed. I’m usually going about five, maybe ten miles over. But I would never intentionally go 18 miles an hour over the speed limit. I had no idea it was 55 through downtown. During rush hour everyone is going at least 70 and often people fly by going at least 80. It was 55 for awhile during heavy construction this summer. But the construction ended months ago and everyone is back to going 70. I very rarely ever drive that stretch of road unless I’m on my way to or from work. All this time I assumed the speed limit was 65 and my six to ten miles an hour over would put me… yep, right about 73.

“How fast do you think you were going,” said the light outside my window.

“That’s probably about right; I had no idea it was 55 through here. Traffic is usually moving about 70 so I just assumed it was 65.”

A hand emerged from the pool of light, took my information and disappeared. It returned with a $102 speeding ticket.

Apparently he didn’t want to hear that I was just plain ignorant, which was probably the reason for setting up the speed trap. Had I just been a few minutes earlier or later he would have had someone else pulled over. If I had just been in the right lane he wouldn’t have been able to get to me – instead he would have pulled over any one of the other cars going 70. Ironic that I get pulled over the one time I honestly didn’t think I was speeding.

P.S. Love in the Time of Cholera was a pretty good book if you could get past the sex-crazed protagonist who becomes a man whore to simply pass the time until the true love of his life becomes a widow and he can win her back.