So I’m driving home from Baltimore, after visiting the Splice Today offices, and on my way back to the Eastern Shore, I notice in my rear view mirror that a state trooper has lit me up like the LED 4th of July. I pulled over to the side of the road, terrified.
I’ve talked my way out of probably 10-15 speeding tickets in the nearly 30 years I’ve been driving, and paid a handful of them. Been to court twice to talk my way out of the tickets in front of the judge. So, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, I don’t have any points on my license. As I pulled over (after—oops, hastily putting my seatbelt on, and hanging up the phone), I collected the usual license-and-registration and took deep breaths to try to chill out. Apparently multiple speeding violations don’t ever give you confidence.
State Trooper: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Me: (thinks: because I’m a dipshit who was speeding in the left lane while not wearing a seatbelt and talking on the phone?) “No, sir.”
State Trooper: “Are you aware you were speeding?”
Me: “No, sir, I thought I was just going with the flow of traffic.”
State Trooper: “Ma’am, you were doing 70 in a 55.”
Me: (thinks: is that even speeding?) “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, sir.”
It is odd that I am calling this guy sir, because he looks like one of my children. He goes back to his car, spends what I know is an extended period of time trooper-Googling me, or whatever they call it, and returns to the car.
State Trooper: “Ma’am, are you aware you are driving on a suspended license? This is an arrestable offense.”
Me: (completely loses shit) “What? No, I’m not aware. I’ve never had my license suspended. Why did Maryland suspend it? And not even tell me? I can’t go to jail, I have to get home for the school bus.”
And then I started crying a little bit. Not even fake crying, like the trembly-lip you do to get out of a ticket. I am talking real tears. And I look at him, and he looks like he just made his mom cry because I am probably around his mom’s age and he just graduated from the police academy like 15 minutes ago and he is not ready to deal with crying mom-types.
State Trooper: “Ma’am, apparently you got a ticket in Delaware last August and they didn’t report it paid so Maryland suspended your license.”
Me: “DELAWARRRRRRRE! I totally PAID THAT speeding ticket LAST SUMMER! They cashed my check!”
State Trooper: “I can choose not to arrest you, but I can’t let you drive the car. Do you have a friend or someone you work with who can pick you up?”
Me: (additional real tears because now he’s pointing out what a loser I am) “No, I don’t have any friends and I work on the Internet.”
State Trooper: “Do you have relatives or neighbors?”
Me: “I am from Philly and don’t have family here but my neighbor Terri would probably get me because even though it’s bus time for her too, she knows how much of a dumbass I am and she will feel bad for me.”
State Trooper: “Okay, let’s call her.”
Like we’re going to do it together, and it will be fun, and then we’ll just all go out and get root beer floats together after this.
I call. She says she’ll come, and she manages not to use the word “dumbass” in the conversation. Then when he leaves and Terri is there I illegally drive my car home on back country roads obsessing over the speed limit because what the fuck, I can’t leave my car on Route 50 and my husband is in Indiana.
And now I have to get a lawyer and go to court after obtaining proof from my bank AND THE LAMEASS STATE OF DELAWARE and dealing with the MVA and paying court costs and all of it is because who is dumb enough to drive over 60 in the left lane on Kent Island?
Me.
