Scofflaw

I’m so embarrassed.

A little background. When I travel from my early morning job to my regular job, I stop at home to get a second cup of tea and maybe some lunch. ‘Cause I like lunch. Yesterday was no different. I stopped, refilled my cup and picked up my *sigh* salad. As I got in the car, my cell phone rang. It was oldest son calling to express his undying devotion to his mama, of course. And, of course I took the call as all the best mamas do.

Now, consider what most women and mothers excel at – multi-tasking. Without a second thought, I buckled up and backed down the driveway, all the while gabbing to my lovely oldest sprog. I drove through the neighborhood, never exceeding the speed limit, watching for rogue squirrels… you know, same old stuff. And since I work only a mile from home, it’s a very short drive.

Imagine my surprise when I stopped at a stop sign, only to see a local police officer about ten feet away with his radar gun pointed at me, shaking his head.

“Hang on, son, there’s a police dude.” I made eye contact with the man in blue. “Me, officer? I’m not speeding.”

He pointed to his ear.

“Wha..??” And the light dawned. The penny dropped. The thought bubble finally floated free of its moorage.

This state just passed a total hands-free cell phone law. Went into effect in January. And there I was, blabbing away.

Oh my freaking Bob. What a dope.

After abruptly hanging up on my sprog, I made the universal hand gestures associated with “My bad. Where should I pull over?” The nice man waved me on, indicating I should keep going on my way. What a guy. What a forgiving, super fabulous officer to give me a freebie.

I made the left turn to proceed to work, promising to support the police benevolence fund forever.

Unfortunately, he followed me and turned on all his pretty, sparkly blue lights. Keep in mind this is less than a half-mile from home, in a purely residential area. I probably know every single person who might happen to drive by us. And the only place to pull off is in someone’s driveway. Benevolence, schmenevolence.

After handing him my license, he ran me through SCMODS (name that movie!) and tried to tell me I’d been driving a little fast, as well as talking on a banned vehicular device.  Which was not true, ’cause I was stopped. Duh. I wasn’t going to argue with him at that point. He patted his ear, said “Bluetooth. Get one.” And in the end, he let me off with only a warning – no tickets at all.

Thanks, police dude.

It was a humbling experience. I never talk on the phone in my car. Never. I drove away from home not even thinking about the phone call. As far as my limited intellect was concerned, my son was sitting in the passenger seat conversing with me.

I’m so embarrassed.

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2 Responses

  1. Good story Julie. You were so right not to argue with the officer. Ask me how I know that one. *G*

  2. Hoo boy…I’d love to hear the story. Yeah, arguing with officers would definitely be a life-impairing move. 🙂

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