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Friday, April 8, 2011

I Am A Moving Target

This post has nothing to do with Ana. I managed to do this one all on my own.

Remember how I got pulled over for a speeding ticket a few weeks back? Well, I went to the police department, paid for my ticket, and signed a paper saying that I would not get another speeding ticket for 90 days, which would allow me to take defensive driving yet again (also got a ticket last fall). 4 years in Pittsburgh, no tickets. 1 year in Austin, 3.

Today I was leaving our neighborhood and heading to pick Ana up from preschool. I have been super careful of my speed since the last ticket and was relieved that I wasn't speeding when I passed a cop car just around the corner from our house. Heading up the main street out of the neighborhood, I then passed two motorcycle cops heading the other way. Not much farther past them I saw a sheriff's car. Mind you, it takes me about 4 or so minutes - max - to get out of our neighborhood, so methinks we are being targeted.

Passed all of those potential ticket givers and was very pleased that I hadn't been speeding. I then see the two motorcycle cops turn on their lights, pull a U-turn, and head my way. I figured something was going on and they were on their way to some big accident. I thought nothing when they motioned me and the car in front of me to the side so they could go around us. Only they didn't.

Picture this: A silver Porsche and I are stopped at the entrance to the neighborhood - at the stop sign that practically everyone in the neighborhood stops at to go any other direction. We are also right next to the park which is jam packed with kids and moms. Kids who start flocking over to watch the fun. The order is: Porsche, motorcycle cop, me, motorcycle cop. Of course, lights are still flashing.

Apparently both I and the Porsche had expired inspection stickers, which is what made it worth their while to turn around - they got two at the same time. Only the Porsche didn't actually have an expired ticket. So, he got to leave.

Picture this: motorcycle cop, me, motorcycle cop. At the main entrance to the neighborhood. Next to the chock-filled park. At this point, being surrounded, it looked like I must have done something terrible to warrant two cops pulling me over and pinning me in.

The drama of giving me a ticket was over, only I still couldn't leave because the cops were standing against the park fence handing out stickers to all of the kids. One mom even got out her camera and took a picture. I'm thinking it shows me in the background. Lovely.

I cannot make this stuff up. That was my morning. Good news is I am no longer in my early twenties, so I did not turn into a embarrassed, beet-red-faced person. Maybe it's not the age thing. Maybe it's that I am no longer surprised when this stuff happens with me. Instead I had a laugh at my own expense and drove on to pick up Ana. Slowly. And with my ticket on the dash in case I got pulled over yet again for my expired inspection sticker.

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