Last Friday Bryan and I spent the evening doing what all party animals in Elk City do – watching some thrilling high school basketball. Now that he teaches high school, he feels some obligation to make an appearance at some of their games. I go along with him because – I love spending time with my husband. AND those concession stands have good nachos. Okay, it’s really all about the nachos.
So after his school’s team was completely slaughtered, we went home to do the other thing party animals do in Elk City – (get your mind out of the gutter) go to sleep at 10:00 on a Friday night. We were driving home on a sort-of back road when an approaching car flashed its lights at us. Except that the lights were red and blue. Ooops.
The car passed us and then did a U-turn, lights flashing insistently as if we hadn’t seen them before. Bryan pulled over while I looked through the glove compartment for our insurance card that I had a sinking feeling wasn’t there…it wasn’t. The officer came to the window.
“Is there a reason you’re going so fast tonight?” he asked.
“Um, not a good reason,” Bryan told him. Bryan was apparently going for humor as his out in this situation. But hold on – it gets better.
“Do you know how fast you were going tonight?” asked the officer.
“Well, we don’t have any dash lights so I’m not really sure but my wife just asked me how fast I was going right before you pulled me over…” I wondered why Bryan didn’t just tell him that we also had an illegal handgun and dead body in the trunk while he was at it. It’s true – our dash lights went out about 10,000 miles ago. We haven’t gotten them fixed because they only allow you to see information that isn’t really that important – like how fast you are going, what gear you are in, how much gas you have left, stuff like that.
“You were going 46 and the posted limit here is 35. Do you have your license and insurance?” And the answer to that question was no. We had a card but it had expired a month ago. Guess I dropped the ball on that one since I open the mail.
The officer finally asked, “When was the last time you had a ticket?”
I really didn’t want Bryan to answer this question because I knew the answer - a few months ago. And a few months before that, and possibly a warning just last month. So I answered for him. I put my head down so that I could see the officer and said, “I haven’t had a ticket in over a decade, officer.”
He looked at me and then looked at Bryan again. He handed back our expired insurance card and said “You two slow it down and have a good night.” Maybe he thought Bryan having to go home with me was punishment enough – I don’t know.
But we were both very thankful.
(SEE, BRYAN – I WROTE ABOUT SOMETHING POSITIVE!)