Saturday, September 13, 2008

They Got Me

Well, I guess it had to happen. Last night as I was heading home from work (near midnight), I exited the interstate and started the short northward drive toward home. The speed limit through this area (a main road no less) is 25MPH, which I find a bit slow. It is currently a construction area, but there was no construction going on at that hour. Anyway, I guess I was in a hurry. As I zipped along, I saw headlights come on in an adjacent parking lot and saw a police car. Of course I slowed down and went on my way. As I rounded the next corner, the flashing red and blues came on behind me. I turned into a residential street and pulled over, waiting to take my medicine. The police officer was very polite and kindly handed me a ticket, but only for 5 miles over the limit instead of the 15 or 16 over at which she clocked me. So now I have to come up with the bucks to feed the local coffers. I admit I was exceeding the speed limit and therefore violating the law -- but I also think that the speed limits in our community are set intentionally slow. Most folks I know are not always going to poke through town on major roadways at 25 MPH. Trouble is -- the police are lurking, always ready to present drivers with a local souvenir -- a traffic citation. The cost of my ticket will be nearly 150 bucks -- should be fun finding that kind of cash lying around. Ah well, if you speed, you bleed (in this case GREEN). So -- slow down and save money. My new slogan is "Drive 25 -- arrive alive -- eventually!"

2 comments:

Lemuel said...

My heart goes out to you. As journeyed yesterday to see my friend I went through many towns in which 25 is the speed limit - intentionally set low. The towns are nortoriously known by the locals as speed traps for local revenue enhancement from unsuspecting out of towners. I decided to play it safe and grumble and cuss under my breath through each 25 zone.

Actually the street a bolcok from our home is one such zone and we frequently here the sirens and the coins clinking in the local coffers.

Ur-spo said...

a punishment for your wickedness.
perhaps you can plead for a spanking or rough slapping instead of the dough.