Wednesday night, 9 p.m.
I am sleepy.
“Let’s go to bed,” I said. Lloyd agreed.
I looked around for my cell phone, which is also my alarm clock.
I asked Lloyd to call it, but that’s actually not really helpful. I have it set to ‘One Beep’, so it beeps once and that’s it. We couldn’t hear it, even though I asked him to call it four times.
“Drat. It’s probably at school,” I sighed.
I threw on slippers and a coat and drove to the center. Sure enough, there it was.
Have I told you that the CDC is right by the police station? Also, the Honda’s right headlight is out.
Mr. Policeman noticed it.
Did I mention that I didn’t grab my bag, since I was just zipping to school and back, and that I didn’t have my license?
Did I mention that I was pulled over right by Brent’s house?
Thanks to Brent (Beth and Brad’s brother), I have proof of my adrenaline surge. Ha! He thought we might need post fodder. (He was right.)
He also shared these sympathetic words after I said I was worried I’d set off some sort of triple-jail-whammy by pulling over right by a fire hydrant: Those crazy strobe lights on a dark night are right out of a nightmare. Whenever I’m pulled over I feel like I’m 16 again. In a bad way. Amen.
I got off with a warning, and the police officer was very kind. I went from being very sleepy to VERY AWAKE!
I believe I’ve been pulled over, in my lifetime:
* Twice for speeding (Once I blamed my shoes. That was smart.)
* Twice for not having the proper sticker/tags on my car. (Both times I actually had them in the car. Lazy girl.)
* Once for my headlight being out.
There might be more, but I’m sure I’ve blocked them from my memory.