Got a speeding ticket tonight … from a child! If I'd have seen him on the street he’d have been hard-pressed to convince me he was out of high school yet. I’m I little bummed that he called me ma’am … I think it was due to my age! WAH!! I comfort myself that he’s been coached to call all the ladies “ma’am” … but still. Apparently I am too old for this shit.
He laughed out loud when I admitted, “Dude, you nailed me!” I guess these guys get a ration of shit more often than not. There’s not much use for it when my only excuse for speeding is that I am behind the wheel!
It’s funny, because I’ve been waiting for the pissed-at-myself to kick in for the speeding ticket, but guess what? I’m not mad. I deserved the ticket. I earned that ticket! I am the first and last to admit that I love to drive fast. It’s exhilarating to move.
I like to move it, move it (brief musical interlude).
But tickets here are weird … back home its written right on the ticket how much you’ll have to pay, and how many points you’ll get. Not so much out here. My young officer advised me I’ll be notified via mail within the next couple weeks.
So I tried to Google the information, but no matter how I searched I got pages (and pages) of websites advertising lawyers offering to “help” me. Further proof some people will do anything to not be held accountable for their actions. I finally got tired of looking; I’ll wait for the snail-mail notice.
Oh, and I was talking to some guys at work, and in the course of the discussion one exclaimed with vigor, about President Obama, “He’s not my President!”. Which floored me. Really? Really?!?! How lame. Are you a U.S. citizen? What an effing stupid thing to say! I know, I know, the right to free speech and all, but really? C’mon! Of course he’s your president! He may not have been your choice, but it’s now a done deal, and he's the Chief.