Catch and Release

Driving to work this morning, I saw most unwelcome site in my rear view mirror, flashing red and blue lights. It’s been awhile since I have seen this phenomenon, so in case I didn’t remember what to do the officer kindly told me to pull over. You know what happens next. Same old song of “License and registration please” and “do you know why I pulled you over?” Usually I know why I’ve been pulled over. But this time, I was clueless.

Me: “I have no idea.”

Officer: “You were traveling southbound on Main at 40 mph. The speed limit is 25”

Me: “Oh…”

Officer: “Are you in a hurry today?”

Me: “No….”

So I told him my very elaborate story about a white van. Not one of those soccer mom white vans. More like a child abductor white van, you know the one without windows in the back. And how this white van had freaked me out and I wasn’t paying attention to the speed limit. The story ended with “If I would of known I was speeding I would have slowed down and let the van get ahead of me.”

The officer was very kind. He noticed the white van was speeding too and if he would have known all the trouble this white van caused me, he would have pulled over the van instead of me.

So, I got off with a warning and “never let me catch you speeding again”. Now I really hope this officer is not a blog reader, because what I have to say next might make him regret letting me off with a warning. I haven’t gotten a ticket in 8 years. I have been pulled over three times in the last eight years and no tickets. I don’t understand why I don’t get tickets. It may have something to do with my fear of authority, and that I end up getting all shaky and talk too much. Maybe the officer wants to let me go on my way before I burst into tears.

Now, I know that getting let off the hook for speeding three times in eight years is not all that impressive. But wait until you hear the story behind the last time I was pulled over.

It’s the summer of 2002, on my favorite day of the week, date night. Usually my husband and I meet at home and drive to dinner together, but this week he had something after work, so we met at the restaurant. After our dinner and a movie we got into our separate cars to drive home. My husband still had his 2001 BMW 525. I was driving my brand new BMW X5 that we had recently added a Dinan package too. (For those who aren’t car buffs, Dinan is BMW's way to get an already fast car to go very, very fast.) It was natural that my husband and I would want to race our cars home, just to see if the Dinan had indeed made my car faster.

The race home was very close. The 525 was faster off the line, while my car did better on the long stretches. We were racing down a four lane avenue neck in neck. There were no other cars around and only green lights ahead. The speed limit is 40 mph. Needless to say we are not following the speed limit.

As we approached the last major intersection before our house, I put the pedal to the metal and passed Jeff. As I am flying through the intersection at 80 mph, I notice Jeff falling behind significantly. I was just reveling in my victory when I saw the police officer behind me. Apparently, the officer was sitting at the red light. My husband had noticed him and slowed down. I was too busy thinking I had won the race to notice.

So now I’m pulled over waiting for the officer to right me a huge ticket, and my husband is driving idly by laughing his ass off. You know the end to this story. I didn’t get a ticket. Why? I have no idea. It might have been because I was in a nice car with tinted windows, and the officer thought he had pulled over someone important. It might have been the inadvertent sexy clothing that I had donned for the evening. I choose to believe that it was my apologetic demeanor and the fact that he had no opportunity to clock me because I came out of nowhere and was gone just as fast. Hell, he was probably surprised he even caught me in the first place.