Getting out of a Ticket

When I was younger, I never witnessed either of my parents get pulled over for anything, ever. They were either both really good drivers or cops were few and far between. It must have been a little bit of the second, because I took a nap in the backseat unbuckled more times than not, my Dad has owned so many vehicles, I”m sure there were a few that weren’t registered, and they were also raising us, which is reason enough to speed. The first time I saw the blue lights behind me, my Dad was sitting in the passengers seat helping me to get my hours in before my drivers exam. He was very reluctant to do this, because I sucked at driving and was a bag of anxiety behind the wheel. As soon as I saw those blues come on, I started shaking and screaming and pitching a fit. He grabbed the handle above the door and said calmly, “pull over”. This was luckily during the time when my Dad discovered he had diabetes and once on medication, it instantly soothed his senses, so that he could deal with four irrational girls in the house.

“I’m serious, pull over,” he repeated. “This literally happens to me all the time.”

I took a sharp right into the ditch and the police car sped around us, apparently onto their way to arrest some other criminal and not me that day. Phew, but I knew I didn’t like the feeling nonetheless. It took me 25 minutes and a bag of swedish fish to calm down, so I could see it would be an issue.

When I was 26, I got pulled over for the first time ever as a grown up driver in Hallowell. I was coming down over the hill by the school and the female cop asked me if I knew how fast I was going. 32 I told her. Which was not true, but she looked about 32 and she also looked real pissed off. She then told me she was going to run me through the system and when I told her I wasn’t in the system, she said we will see about that. Instantly, I could feel my heart race, like I had just drank three monster drinks while simultaneously being asked to sing on stage for a large crowd. When she came back, she threw my license into the window and said she was surprised, but I actually was telling the truth and she couldn’t find any priors on me. I slowly put the car in gear and continued on my journey home away from Sears Portrait Studios. That is where all the criminals go, am I right?

Two years later, I smashed my Kia Sorento into a tree at my mothers house, while listening to music and also being alerted by the backup alarm. While it was in the shop, I drove around 8 months pregnant with the tail light taped up, real sexy like. I was driving on the interstate at 8 at night, when I heard that familiar siren. This time it was a male, who approached the left side of my vehicle. He had kind eyes and a beer gut, I knew I might stand a chance. When he leaned in and asked me if I knew the tail light was out, I became emboldened by my pregnant belly and my two-year-old asking me if I was going to be taken to jail, so I answered, I knew it went out, when I backed into that tree. I think he felt sorry for me or had a thing for pregnant chicks, because he got back in his cruiser and left, with no further questions.

Four years after this, I was pulled over right in front of the old Chapman’s Garage in Gardiner. This was prime viewing and it seemed everyone and their mother drove by. This time, I had provoked another female cop, and she had no time for bullshit. When I opened the glove box and all that fell out were McDonalds receipts and Bath and Body Works hand sanitizer, she told me and I quote “you are a god damn mess.” Yes Mam, that is me. I mean what does someone say to that? I nodded vigorously when she asked me if I was going to give a sufficient blinker next time and also when she asked me if I was going to be a decent human being. I knew someone had broken up with her the night before and it was best to not make any sharp movements and just do what she said.

The year after that, I borrowed my husbands truck which I think he had me take that day on purpose, so that I could be the one to be pulled over right in front of our home. Apparently, the light above the license plate was out and back then, this was an essential light. The police officer told me to change that light as soon as I got the opportunity and I readily agreed, although truth be told, I haven’t changed anything in a vehicle but the adjustment on the seat warmers, but hey who am I to argue? No ticket, no warning, boom.

Then last year, LAST YEAR, the mother of all pull overs happened. The one where a ticket could not be avoided. It began as all criminal acts begin, which is to say, I was on my way to Barnes and Noble. If you have followed my above healthy living lifestyle advice, you will know you can talk your way out of a ticket by a. playing dumb b. being sexy c. being witty d. driving well or e. getting knocked up. But on this day, as I was driving to Barnes and Noble, I noticed the blues right behind my Highlander and I pulled over thinking, aww that poor schmuck in front of me is going to get a ticket. Little did I know, I was the poor schmuck. I did not have a ton of room to pull over because the rail trail was on the right and on the left, people were either driving to KV health club to get more fit, or Hi Hat to get less fit. Reno 911 came up alongside the vehicle. He did not have kind eyes, a beer gut, or nice khaki pants. This was probably going to suck. He asked me what I was doing that day and what I did for work. This seemed strange, I felt like I was in one of those speed dating rooms, where we were getting real intimate real quick. What job did I do? What did that have to do with anything? When I told him I was a teacher, he motioned to the phone and asked why was that in view then? Didn’t I know? Being a teacher, that I could kill someone by being on my phone? Did he really need to remind me, that I should not have my phone anywhere about, especially with the line of work that I do. Now I’m not knocking the police here, texting and driving is a shitty human act, having your phone in plain view is nothing to be proud of, but his speech that followed this was hardly necessary. He made me feel like I had entered a Chucky Cheese, asked 50 four-year-olds to lay down in the parking lot and then run the f over them. At the same time, I was reaching for all of my paperwork and this took a minute because they were buried in old registration paperwork and old necklace receipts for when my husband and I had money and our kids didn’t suck every last penny out of us. When the Sheriff noticed that my registration was two days late, he proclaimed he was going to give me a ticket for that, and because I didn’t have my insurance on me, he said you are getting a ticket for that, and because he thought I had dead hookers in the trunk and had flattened small children, he also notified me I was getting a ticket for distracted driving. All the while, I was on a very busy road, where every person I knew, was driving by and waving their sympathies.

It was around this time that I felt a panic attack coming on. I don’t know if you have every had a panic attack. I have one about every six months and they are the absolute worst. I could feel the sweat, I could feel my heart accelerate and dizziness begin. Suddenly I was so thirsty and so dizzy, I didn’t even know what I was saying back to this man. I also felt terrible because all of these infractions would surely add up to my house payment and all for a trip to the bookstore! I told him, I did in fact have insurance, I just was an unorganized SOB and the paperwork was with my husband. “If you say it’s with your husband, call him, I’ll wait.” Gulp. I don’t know about anyone else’s spouse, but I am a needy needy Nancy and my husband does not pick up every phone call I dial. Of course he did not during this transgression, of course more people drove by that I knew, of course Sheriff Sheldon continued to stare me down with judgement. By the time Joe actually picked up, I don’t think he truly understood the gravity of the situation. I wanted to whisper, they are taking me in, it’s over for us, they found the hookers and the stolen money. But all I could do was cry and whimper. After receiving my first every physical ticket, I proceeded to lean against the steering wheel and sob into the Florida Georgia Line song that was playing. The truth of the matter really is, I can give you the best playbook there is for skipping tickets, but not everyone has kind eyes or is having a good day. I can tell you to locate your registration, start listening to podcasts in your car instead of music, making it less likely that you will reach to adjust any buttons, that is if you decide it is prudent to go for a drive in the first place. If you do decide to go for a drive, feel free to use my line on the next cop, which is I”m driving to escape the prison that is my house, that way I don’t end up in your prison. I wish all readers a sunny and ticket-free Tuesday!