Car Themed Post #4 - Driveway Cops - 2/15/06
This morning, I was pulled over by a cop in my own driveway.


Perhaps I should rephrase: I had already pulled into my driveway on my own accord and was about to go inside when a cop on a motorcycle pulled in behind me and flashed his lights. I thought for a minute that maybe it was just a coincidence; somehow a party had broken out at our house at 7:30am on a Wednesday, and the cop was just coming to break it up. But when he shined his flashlight at me (none too effective a signal in broad daylight) and motioned for me to get back in the car, I figured it probably had more to do with my terrible driving.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, with as stern a look as a tired Monday-morning traffic cop can muster.

Since I run stop signs all the time, my first thought was "Gee, I hope it wasn’t that stop sign I ran right in front of you just now." But fortunately I didn't say this out loud, and apparently that wasn't the problem.

"I have no idea" I said, with my most innocent face.

"Do you know what the speed limit is on this street?

Digging back into my 16-year-old Minnesota Driver's Test memory, I blindly stabbed at something that seemed reasonable. "35?" I guessed.

The cop was not pleased. "35!? It's 25! How long have you lived here?"

Apparently not long enough to care what the speed limit was, but that wasn't my first thought. 25? It's not like it's an alley. I used to ride the Scootskate faster than that down the street, back before Scooter broke it off with her hoo-ha.

I launched into a pathetic explanation of how I was sorry I didn't know, and I was just a little tired from working all night as a security guard upholding law and order (and sleeping), and was just trying to get home. The cop then gave me a lecture about "going too fast on the street I live on", climbed back on his bike, and drove out of my driveway. Remarkably, he never even noticed the stolen Vons shopping cart parked in front of my car. I looked to make sure he was really gone, shrugged, and went inside. I was nearly disappointed; part of me had wanted to invite him inside for some coffee or a quick game of beer pong.

That's the second time I've gotten out of a traffic ticket by saying I'm a security guard. Do they have any idea how much I sleep there?



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