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So I rode down to Tucson last Friday, 15 hours, left at 4am. In between Blythe and Quartzite I see AZ D.P.S. behind some bushes. I know it is too late so I pass the truck next to me, slow to 75mph and wait for my medicine. I watch as Smokey pulls out and catches up. Lights on and I pull over and stop.
I have been pulled over about 10 times in 15 years. I got a ticket every time. Why is this time different? Nothing went right and I tried not to admit to anything. I was tired and didn’t care anymore.
He asks if I knew how fast I was going. I refused to answer a couple of times until he gets mad and says “GUESS!". I told him the speedo read 90 and the GPS says 86. He clocked me at 87. He wants to know if I know the speed limit. I did. He wants my insurance, DL, and registration. Registration is expired. Paid but I never received my stickers or new paper. Drivers license has an old address. He walks back to his car and get on the radio.
I was thinking back to my last ticket on Martin Luther King day. Less than 18 months. I was wondering if the traffic school 18 months counted if it was out of state when I see him writing. That has never been good before. He walks back and tells me I am getting a warning. I signed and got on my way thinking WTF in my head.
So the lesson is the more you don’t want the ticket, the worse it will be. If you don’t care you won’t get a ticket.
Or maybe it is do the opposite of what you think will work and you will get a warning.
Or maybe the lesson is move to Arizona.
Or maybe people should drive around with expired registration and old licenses.
There is a lesson in there somewhere. In case you don’t get sarcasm, this whole post is in jest.Permalink