No Sir, Mr. Officer Sir
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| Bob Stevens The Muddled Male |
I remember as a young boy my mother
expressing concern about my spending too much time with Amos. I hung around him because he was fun. But my mother was concerned about the
influence he might have on my pre-teen brain since he was considerably older
than me, he smoked, he cussed, and he was always available to hang with since
he didn’t have a real job. My defense
position was that although he was fun to be around, I really wasn’t interested
in doing any of the things that worried her.
My mother’s response was short and, I now know, prophetic. “Bob,”
she said, “you will become the same as
those with whom you spend your time.”
Like every kid faced with a dire prediction from a concerned parent I
wailed, “You don’t trust me. I promise I’ll be good.”
I made it past my tendency to walk
on the wild side with Amos and didn’t end up in jail, but then Ann, my wife,
and I moved to Garden City where we met, became friends with, and often hung
with two of the fastest lady drivers I have ever encountered….and that leads me
to Wednesday when I found out that mom was right. I admit that I have been known to do a
slightly slower-speed emulation of our two high speed lady friends. There is something exhilarating about feeling
yourself being pressed back into your seat by acceleration. On Wednesday, however, we were just running a
little late and I was making up a little time on a straight stretch when
I noticed that the car coming toward us appeared to be paying special attention
to my car. I just assumed that the
driver of the other car was coveting the smooth manner in which my car was being
handled.
But then I noticed in my rear view
mirror that the other car had slowed down to make a U-turn, followed quickly by
flashing lights and me being pulled over.
Have you noticed how quickly a guilty conscience can react in an
emergency? I began decelerating as soon
as I felt tinge of suspicion about the approaching car, but it was way too
late. Radar, it turns out, is faster
than my conscience. When the Officer
brought back my license, my registration, my proof of insurance, and the
Citation for me to sign he asked if I had any questions. I said, “No
sir, Mr Officer Sir, my questions were all answered when you made a U-turn and
turned on your flashing lights.” I tried to blame it onto my association
with our two high-speed lady friends, but Ann said that I had no one to blame
but myself. Besides, she reminded me,
the high speed ladies are cute and I am not and so no one is going to believe me…..not
even her, Ann my wife.
All in all I learned that moms are
always right, and the lesson is only going to cost me $165. There is a positive thing that came out of
all this. They let the guilty party pay
bail on line, and I have always loved technology.
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