Best I can recall it was when Scott was in high school and I was driving from my apartment in Provo to West Jordan High School to watch one of his baseball games. I was in Dad's truck and was pulled over by a police officer on a motorcycle. On a hot day. I include this bit of information because in my opinion it was because of the heat, and that he had to endure it on the back of a bike, that the police officer pulled me over in the first place. He was in a lousy mood. First he royally chewed me out for speeding. (And I have to point out that according to the ticket he clocked me going 68 mph in a 65 mph zone. Hardly worth stopping me for.) Then after giving me the ticket, he noticed there was a crack in my windshield and launched into a fifteen minute lecture on proper vehicle maintenance. I kid you not.
So back to the real story of this post . . .
Thursday ended up being a pretty chill day at work and my group had this project for Convention we'd been assigned to help out with. So we all decided to make a trip to Home Again, one of my favorite consignment stores, to see if we could find some props we needed. We took my car.
As I drove through Midvale at what I thought was a rational speed, we passed a parked police car and his lights instantly went on. Busted. I pulled over and he gave me a ticket. Ya, I deserved it. 43 mph in a 30 mph zone. And as he left my car, he thanked me for wearing my seat belt. Like that would somehow minimize the humiliation of being pulled over with three employees in my car, and the fact that they couldn't NOT laugh as they sat there and watched the whole thing go down.
But hey, it was funny. So I might as well laugh with them, right?
1 comment:
As long as they help pay for the ticket they can laugh. Only fair I say.
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