Breakin' the Law (and/or Stupidity Tax 2)

I’ve been speeding for the last decade. I’m not proud of it exactly, it just happens. I like driving fast, I like not being late, and I like not leaving early. I listen to fast music. I date fast women. And when you have a Subaru, you have to show folks what it can do.

And until recently, I’d outrun the coppers. I developed techniques and strategies to avoid the fuzz. But on Halloween they caught me.

I feel like women have a variety of options when they see those lights behind them. They can flirt, cry, play dumb, use mace. Guys on the other hand have play dumb. And unfortunately, I’m not very good at playing dumb.

But I tried. The speed limit was 45? I was going 56? Well, that was really my only defense. And I’m guessing a lot of the time this would work. But not in this case. Because:

1. It was Halloween and it was 2 in the morning. Stupid church activity.
2. I didn’t have my license. Again, stupid church activity. Sure, I’m glad people helped me load my car with the supplies from the Spook Alley. That was great. The fact that they put my backpack in my roommate’s car, not so great. The bag that had my wallet in it. He wasn’t too impressed with my excuse.
3. My fingernails were painted. Admittedly, I don’t think he noticed. But I noticed. What’s worse than being pulled over in the middle of the night? How about wearing nail polish from your now-absent Halloween costume? Awesome.

Seeing as I’ve never received a speeding ticket, I may have gotten a warning, but not when I couldn’t show him a license. So, there goes 146 dollars, low insurance rates and the carefree days of my youth.