Today I was driving home on a surface street and saw not one but two speed traps, one on one block, one on the next. Motorcycle police. They each had a customer. This pairing seems wicked unfair, but it’s common around here (southern California). I guess they tag-team. Or just like to have someone to chat with.
I’ve only had one speeding ticket in my life. It too was wicked unfair, but yes, he did catch me fair and square going over the limit. But not by that much.
But in a construction zone. That bit really stung, since it was quite early on a Sunday morning and the construction that was (actually, wasn’t, at that moment) going on was a couple of hundred feet away from the road. I’m careful about stuff like that.
I’m a good, law-abiding little bun all around, usually. If I do go a little fast it’s seldom more than 10mph over the limit. The one speeding ticket and three parking tickets, two of which were bogus, that’s all you’ll see on my driving record. So it was excruciatingly embarrassing to sit there and be ticketed. The degree of mortification I felt was indescribable.
Anyhow, the officer did his thing, I got an expensive (around $250) ticket, he thanked me for my co-operation (!) and we both went on our ways.
I spent part of the afternoon hunting the internet to find out how to take the required traffic school. I was looking for the online traffic school. That’s how it works in Los Angeles County, where my husband got his ticket a couple of years before. Couple of hours pretending to pay attention online and there you go, no points on your license, and no insurance awkwardness.
Well, guess what.
Orange County, where we now live, doesn’t let you to go to traffic school online. They make you go, physically, to traffic school.
Yes, they make you take the Saturday morning Walk of Shame, bright and early, 8 a.m., to the local courthouse. Where you sit for eight mind-numbingly boring hours. What do they say to you for those eight awful hours? I regret to have to report that I couldn’t honestly tell you.
I remember nothing except the instructor started out by asking us, “Why do people speed?” Well duh, because it’s fun. Then she asked, “Was your police officer courteous?” Yes, perfectly so. “Were you courteous?” Well duh, yes.
And that’s it, from eight long hours.
That was about five years ago. Do I drive any slower now? Well, y’know, I probably do.
And when I do speed, it’s sure not as much fun as before.
Friend of mine claims to have got out of a ticket once for saying he was on his way home for a nooner. Try it some time; report back to us if it works.
How about you? Ever get a ticket? Was it legit, or bogus? Did you try to spin the officer a yarn to get out of it? Flash your boobs? Did it work?
Photo: Wiki Commons
