I drove to Idaho Falls yesterday with my mom to visit my grandpa. It was a fairly leisurely drive, not much traffic. After two and a half hours of driving, I needed to use the restroom and the rest stop right before Pocatello was closed, so I thought I would pull over in Pocatello and use a restroom at a gas station. As I reached the top of the hill the southbound side of the freeway was closed and they had both directions of traffic merged onto the northbound side. Suddenly a cop passes me going the opposite direction. I look up in the rearview mirror and this guy is fish tailing his way through a Rosco P. Coltrane U-turn in the dirt and gravel on the shoulder of the highway and I think to myself, “He can’t be getting me, I’m barely moving. Oh wait, I’m going 75 mph, but still that’s not bad. What’s the speed limit here, 65 mph? There are some orange barrels around, maybe its 55 mph. Oh crap, that’s 20 mph over. But what does he care; I’m the only one on the road right now. No harm no foul. I’ve just been driving for a long time and didn’t realize how fast I was going”. But sure enough, here comes Mr. Flashy. “Are you kidding? He can’t be getting me. I wasn’t doing anything reckless. 75 mph?” The exit was right there, so I pulled off and into the gas station parking lot. Through the mirror I could see him put on his tasselly flat brimmed hat, get out of his car with his hand on his gun in fear that I might be a member of AlOreIda, and do a quick spit shine on his silverbadged superman mark of honor. I rolled down my window and gave him my license.
Rosco: In uh ‘urry?
Me: No, not really.
Rosco: You comin’ up from Utar?
Me: Yes. (While thinking to myself “What does that matter?”) We’re going to visit my grandpa in Idaho Falls for the day.
Rosco: Registrayshun ‘n prewf of inshurence puhleeze.
Me: Huh?
Rosco: Uh sed, Registrayshun ‘n prewf of inshurence puhleeze.
Me: Come again?
My Mom: Here you go officer.
Thank goodness my mom speaks Pocatello. Rosco then heads back to Mr. Flashy. At this point I’m thinking to myself, “He’ll look in his computer, notice that I’ve never had a ticket, and give me a warning.” But sure enough, after a considerable amount of time, much more time than is really needed to fill out a three-by-five form, he nails me for the full amount, and then begins a sermon that I only understood two words of: n’kay and Rooster. I could read between the lines that he just hated out-of-Staters. He then tapped the car and said, “Yew Druv Sayf Nah”.
Drive Safe?! I’ve been taking smack from friends, family, casual acquaintances, and complete strangers for years for my conservative, ten-and-two, too afraid to get in the fast lane, check your blind spot, pray before driving to the corner, extra reflectors, wait for Titanic-sized openings . . . . ah, forget it, I need to pee. There, that’s better . . . let people cut me off, never run a yellow, check left, then right, then left, then right, then left again style of driving, and you tell me to drive safe? I couldn’t believe the smugness. This guy clearly must have been a hall monitor as a child. Either that or he had a quota to fill. If so, I hope my contribution helped him with job security, or to reach his bonus for most tickets handed out for the day. To you, Corporal Rosco of Pocatello Idaho, I commend you for being a champion revenue earner. Whatever, I guess we all have a mortgage to pay.
The rest of the day, I safely set the cruise a couple miles under the limit and watched like a hawk for any change in the allowed speed. At one point, I swore I saw an RV flip on its lights. I’ve never been so happy to cross a State line. As we hummed through a very similar construction zone in Ogden, as the speed trap I was caught in near Pocatello, we were doing 65mph in bumper to bumper traffic, and I looked over and noticed a Utah Highway Patrolman helping a lady fix her flat tire. He had no tasselly hat, just rolled up sleeves. I noted to my mom that that is what a cop should be doing, not flagging down harmless accidental solo flyers to boost the municipal budget.
5 comments:
I have noted that I feel the same emotion about speeding tickets as I do about finding that I've been robbed. I think there may be something to that, since it feels like robbery many times.
Do you remember the time the Wyoming cop got me when I had you and your friends in the car on the way to Jackson? I still get mad thinking about it.
First ticket ever Dean? that is so impressive.
They'll get you in Iron County near Cedar City, too. Nice that they provide online traffic school, I love traffic school (no sarcasim intended).
Funny that a Bountiful boy has never had a ticket - Bountiful cops, I could write a post on them!
Welcome to the club!
Oh Dean, I love your posts - too funny. I could just see this all going down, with Judy in the passenger seat rolling her eyes at your inability to understand the officer. Hope it isn't a steep fee, I had a conniption when I got a 5 over ticket and it cost me $100 - and note that I only got a ticket because traffice school was out of the question because I wasn't out of the 3 year probation - sheesh that makes me sound like a really bad driver doesn't it!
Dean, you make me laugh! I love reading your blog. My favorite books are real people telling stories about their lives. "All I ever needed to know I learned in Kindergarten" kind of books. Your blog is like that. You are quickly becoming my favorite author!
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