Somewhere in Wyoming

Lights flashing behind me, I hope Officer doesn’t turn in the same place I do. No such luck. My goose is cooked. 

 

He didn’t ask me if I knew why he pulled me over, and really, I wasn’t quite sure. I’m trying to pull my driver’s license and insurance card from the tight compartment in my wallet. I look at him, shake my head, and kinda growl, so frustrated with myself. I’m trying to get it out, so sorry. I think he heard Texas. He asks me if my car is a rental. Sooo not what I expected him to say...No, this ugly piece of stuff is all mine, baby. Aren’t I lucky? (I did not say that.) No, was the true answer, it’s mine. He’s holding my info, smiling. I hold my hand up, as if to say give me a minute. I received my birth certificate this week from California, finally, so now I can get my license renewed, I tell him. He’s still smiling. I KNOW I look like a wild woman...my eyes are incredibly dry, nothing helps, and they are both red, terribly red. And I’m verbally vomiting about license, stiff wallets, and birth certificates. Finally I ask why I was pulled  over. He tells me he was going to get the car in front of me, but when I blew past, it was all me. The light was yellow, and it changes so fast, I reply. It stays yellow 3 seconds he tells me. (Boy, I hate to slam on the brakes around here. Stuff can go sideways in a hurry. So, I speed up, just a tad. Yellow means go faster, right? The light turns red as I cross the intersection.) I’ll be right back, he tells me.

 

I know without a doubt my luck has run out. 

 

I’m messaging with an alphabet agency friend in Texas, while Officer does what officers do:

 

Me: I’ve been pulled over

 

Friend: uh oh...open your shirt, show your boobs. 

 

Me: Turtleneck 

 

(I almost snort laughing at my crazy friend’s joking suggestion. If only life were that easy. Say, I have some boobs here. Well good Ms. Shaw, since you have some boobs you can be on your way.)

 

If I don’t receive a citation, I will be VERY fortunate. I don’t have a snowballs chance in hell. 

 

Here he comes, citation in hand, along with my Texas drivers license and insurance card. We’ve had an increase in accidents, with the snow melting and then freezing again, this time of evening. It gets really slick. We ask that you slow down, obey the traffic control devices. I’m giving you a warning. (I can’t believe my ears.) Thank you, I tell him. He’s smiling. I tell him I was recently rear ended at a red light and hate to be a sitting duck. I was too, he says, while in my patrol car. 

 

As we are parting ways, I tell him about my crazy Texas connection and what he (Texas) told me to do. Officer laughs out loud. 

 

As he’s walking off, I yell thank you, thank you for having mercy. 

 

He’s still smiling. Nice young man. 

 

I’ve been pulled over too many times the last twelve months. I must behave. Behave or get an easy open shirt.

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