Last week I got a speeding ticket. It was totally my fault. I was speeding. I had no idea I was speeding, but I was. So the girl who drives like a granny was issued a ticket for going 42 in a 35. Boo.
That story is pretty much uneventful. In fact, I’m done talking about it. (Until I have to fork up the $90 next month.) But it sparked a nice conversation between the fiance, DD Girl and myself about more memorable encounters with the law.
Since the fiance and I are uber competitive we think you should vote on whose story is better. (Obviously, I have the upper hand as the writer, but I will try to be fair here.) Then, you should share your own story in the comments. Ready? Go!
My Story:
In college I worked at Old Navy and I drove the same car I currently drive. However, since my dad still owned the car and paid taxes for it in Johnson County, KS, it had Kansas tags. (My parents lived in Germany at the time.) I attended school and lived in Johnson City, TN. When I turned 21, I needed a new driver’s license, but apparently the nice people in the Volunteer State don’t find a dorm room is an acceptable address. Luckily, Aunt Nancy lived a hop, skip and a six-hour jump away in Kentucky. So, using her address as my residence, I had a Kentucky driver’s license.
Got all that? Kansas tags, a Kentucky driver’s license and living in Tennessee.
On my way home from an evening of folding denim, I was pulled over. I was probably speeding because I more than likely needed to get back to study for something I had put off. Mr. Police officer took my license, walked around behind my car and immediately returned to my window.
[Editor's Note: The following scene has been recreated from my memory and is not intended to be an actual quotation of the conversation between Mr. Police officer and myself.]
“Maam, you have Kansas plates, a Kentucky driver’s license and as far as I can tell, we’re still in Tennesee. Where do you live?”
“Milligan College?” I answered/asked.
“Can you please explain to me why you have multiple states represented here?”
“Well, my parents live in Germany, but my dad owns this car in Kansas. He pays taxes, so don’t worry about that. I live in Williams dorm at Milligan, but I can’t use that as my address, so my Aunt Nancy in Kentucky lets me use her address for my license.”
Mr. Police officer returned to his squad car and returned shortly with a warning ticket.
“I’m giving you a warning because quite frankly, you are too much paper work. But please don’t speed again.”
Pretty good story, huh? You liked it? Ok, I’m now going to share this kind of good story from the fiance.
His story:
On his way to somewhere (not important, but it’s probably a very nerdy destination.) the fiance (aka lead foot) was pulled over. He followed the necessary steps of opening his glove box and handing the officer his license, registration and proof of insuranace.
The officer then asked him to go with him to his squad car. So the fiance turned to his buddies, shrugged his shoulders and said he’d be back.
In the car, the officer asked him point blank was was in the blue baggie in his glove box. Immediately understanding that the blue baggie was under suspicion for illegal substances, the fiance breathed a silent sigh of relief.
He explained to the officer that it was his bag of dice, used for D&D and a variety of other nerdy games.
Needing more proof, the officer asked him to show him the bag. Happy to oblige, the fiance took him back to his car, opened up his glove compartment and removed the suspicious bag. He reached inside and pulled out a variety of die, explaining how a 20-sided die would be used, a 10-sided etc…
Completely baffled, the officer left, shaking his head over the fact that he had pulled over a car full of nerds, and not a car full of criminals. (Technically speaking, of course.)
So now you vote and then you share your story.
July 1, 2009
Seeking: comments
I’d like to see more comments on my blog. And I’m not afraid to say that. A very smart business woman once told me, “If you want something. Ask for it.” So I’m asking.
But I understand that not everyone has something to say on every subject. Which is why I like to give you options:
Last night I made the not-so- famous dumplings for Roomie, the fiance and DD Girl. I decided I needed to play with a new dipping sauce so I mixed up soy sauce, rice vinegar, hoisin sauce, siracha sauce and some diced onions. I’m not going to lie. I was kind of in love with it.
Last night was also a foodie heaven night because my Pampered Chef party shipment came in. I was excited to play with my new Food Chopper. As much as I hesitated to buy it for the “gadget” factor, it’s kind of great. The only thing is, you still have to cut things into managable chopping size. So it probably really doesn’t save you a whole lot of time. But what I love is it gets things nice and small. Which is perfect for dumplings.
I’m also looking forward to trying this new cookbook I bought. Everything in it looks very tasty with a minimum number of ingredients. Perfect for my budget!
I still run, you know. For a while I was doing some longer distances (tackled 8 miles), but the heat is really messing with my motivation lately. I have no idea how I ever trained for a marathon during the summer. I’d really like to do another one, but the thought of doing long runs drains me. It’s nice to go home, throw my running clothes on, grab the dog and knock out two miles.
I’m counting down the days until Blogher. But I’m finding it hard to explain to my friends who don’t blog or care about blogs why on earth I’d be so excited to spend a weekend in Chicago, sharing a room with another blogger I have never met, learning more about, well…blogging.
Meanwhile, I’m reading some great stuff out there in the blogosphere. Unfortunately, one of my favorite writers won’t be at the conference this year. But you should read thisfunnyobservation of what happens to your parents when you have a kiddo.
Love them! I mean who doesn’t love a fat baby? So last Saturday the fiance and I were hanging out at his parents’ house. His cousins brought their 15 month son over. And let me tell you – he’s a big boy, a rolly polly, smiley, happy big boy! And it’s odd because his parents and his four-year-old sister are all petite.
Fiance’s Mom gave the baby a plastic bowl and a wooden spoon to play with, thinking he would use the spoon to bang on the bowl. But no. This was a fat baby. He had other things in mind. He turned that bowl over and started stirring the air with his spoon. A-dorable! I foresee a Top Chef in our family’s future!
Wow, last year I had all these plans and then I ended up crashing my car . What a weekend. (Talk about trama for Gertie who was in the car when we wrecked and was so scared that she pooped a little on the seat. Then, later that night she had to endure fire works. Poor girl!)
Things are a little more calm this year (I hope?) but one thing I didn’t write about from last year was on July 3, the then boyfriend and I said three little words that we will be saying to one another for the rest of our lives. God bless America! (Oh wait, those weren’t the words.
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