Over the years I’ve been able to lord certain “accomplishments” over my nearest and dearest. “I’ve actually never had a cavity, so, I wouldn’t know…” But as time passes, I slowly cavitied and hangovered myself into the land of the Ordinary Person. This list of little “Nyah-nyahs” has dwindled and last night, finally collapsed entirely.
I got my first speeding ticket.
I won’t go into all the details. I was speeding. I mean, there it is. In my defense, I really and truly did not know that it was 25 mph in that area (mainly because I had no idea what “area” I was in. I was nearly irretrevably lost, save for the grid system.) I was going 38. (I know. I’m such a speed demon. Only I would get a ticket for going a speed that would get me cursed by other driver’s for it’s elderliness. But whatever, I’m not a fighter when it comes to law enforcement.
Except…okay, I’m an Ohio girl. And while I’ve never been awarded (note: positive spin) a speeding ticket until last night, I have been pulled over a couple times. IN OHIO. Land of the traffic laws that make sense. In Illinois, they take your license! Literally, you hand it to them, and they don’t hand it back. I’m driving using my f-ing ticket as my god damn license. Barbaric! I’m going out of town this weekend! What if we go to a restaurant and I want a drink!? What do I just hand them my Scarlet Letter “S”? And frankly, I don’t even know how I get it back. Do they mail it? Do I have to pick it up somewhere? Do I, gasp, have to see that cop again?
Anyway, I ended up bawling in a Walgreen’s parking lot, mainly because State Farm conveniently forgot to send our updated insurance cards, so I had to do a little song and dance called, “I swear to god we’re current, Officer!” (tappety tap tap tap TAP, jazz hands.)
By that time, I’d missed the meeting I was supposed to attend and went home and played with all the different things you can do with amaretto and vodka. I’d tell you where the speed trap was, but I honestly don’t even know where I was at the time. I’ll say, in the vicinity of Cicero ave. Which, of course, runs the entire length of the city, so good luck with that. Thank god for the grid system, or this girl would still be driving 24 mph seeing the mirage of 94E in the distance.
Oh and by the way, what’s a Triple A bond card? Anyone? I know I sure as hell don’t have one.
Wait. WAIT! Knock on wood and dances around fairy rings and all other sorts of superstitions before I say it: I’ve never broken a bone! Not officially, at least. Ah…put that list back up on the fridge.