Brainsprain.net

After the great steakhouse adventure, it was definitely time to get home.  We were exhausted, a bit sunburned, and starting to get very sleepy.  I decided I’d be more comfortable driving in my emergency back-up shorts rather than the kilt, so I did that girl trick where you pull on your shorts under your skirt/kilt and then take off the skirt/kilt.  Very sexy.  Very very glad I did it.  We climbed into the car, and started heading home.  It was dark and I was tired, so I was being extra careful watching my heavy foot.  Very very glad I did it.  The cop did a U-Turn out of the blackness by the side of the road, lights flashing.  There wasn’t anybody else on the road, so I was pretty sure I knew who he was pulling over.  I glanced down at my speedometer.  I wasn’t going THAT fast, but I was speeding.  I pulled way off the road, and the officer asked me to step out of the car.  I carefully got my driver’s license and stepped out to speak to the officer.  I’ll spare you the excruciating details of the conversation, but I will tell you that I was nice and polite.  He kindly let me off with a warning, but somehow felt that a clichéd lecture would be just the thing to set me straight.  Despite the fact that I was going a full nine miles over the speed limit.  “This one’s on me,” he said, “But the next one’s on you.”  I tried not to roll my eyes.  I’d almost rather have a ticket than a lecture.  Almost.  Other than that, he was very nice, polite, and efficient.  I felt he performed his duties with respect and decorum.  All in all, a textbook traffic stop.  But come on, you know he speeds.  The cliché only served to make the man look stupid and condescending when he was otherwise very nice.  So, if there are any cops reading this, please take note:  If you’re gonna warn us, warn us.  We get it at that point.  If you can see we don’t, then don’t lecture, just write out the ticket.  It’s your job.  I understand.