Last night I drove about 30 minutes north to visit with Jenn, Tiffiny and Stef for a camp out girls night.
We had a great time, even though it poured down rain. For the first time in days. Luckily, they don't do rustic camping. No, we're talking huge, awesome trailer camping. The only kind I'll ever do.
Anyhow, around midnight I turned into a pumpkin and needed to get home. B is leaving on business for a few days, so I figured I should be rested for today and all the last minute packing and such.
The roads were a little slick, so when I came upon a stoplight that turned yellow as I was nearly in the intersection, I took the turn rather than slamming on the brakes. I had actually skidded earlier in the evening and didn't want to take any chances.
But out of the corner of my eye as I was making the left, I saw the sheriff sitting at the intersection.
Feck. But I didn't say that. The quality and amount of expletives that poured forth would have embarrassed a biker with Tourettes.
I kept driving, hoping, praying, that he wouldn't follow me. Even when he pulled a u-turn and started to creep up behind me, I held out hope maybe he just needed to change direction suddenly?
Then the lights came on. Cue more cussing.
I pulled over, rolled down my window, turned on my overhead light and started digging for all my paperwork.
Deputy (very young I might add): "So, miss (it was at this point I thought MAYBE I would not get a ticket - no one calls me 'miss' anymore), there are a couple of reasons I pulled you over. The yellow light turned red as you were in the intersection, and you have a brake light out."
Me: "Oh! So that's why my turn signal is making that crazy noise. Here's my license. I think this is my registration - is this a registration? I haven't been pulled over for a long time (eyes very big)."
Deputy: "Uh, yes, this is registration. Do you have your proof of insurance?"
Me (digging madly in glovebox): "Ummmm. Yessss. Just a sec....HERE!"
Deputy: "So, what brings out so late tonight?"
A zillion smart ass answers run through my mind - is midnight late?... I was out picking up some meth... but I stuck to the overly gracious, calm answers.
Me: "Out visiting friends. Girls night (thinking back, maybe this wasn't a great answer because he might have equated girls night with drinking. And I'd had one beer, over a four hour period. So I was fine. But still.)."
Deputy (looking over license - probably laughing to himself about the blatantly wrong weight): " Okay, I'm going to let you go with a warning tonight. Please get your brake light fixed."
Me: "THANKYOU. Thank you so much. Thankyou. Have a GREAT night."
I may have been a little overenthusiastic.
But it worked.
NO TICKET FOR ME. Sweet.
I sat there for a second, waiting for the sensation to return to my legs and taking a few deep breaths. And then I turned on my blinker and very carefully pulled back onto the road, watching that deputy in my rear view until his lights disappeared from sight.
Then I went ten under the whole way home, and avoided using my brakes.
Today, I get to figure out how much it costs to get the the light replaced. Seriously, I'm hating my car. All these little expenses. Boo hiss! Maybe I'll try to do it myself. That will be a whole post in itself.
And will probably involve even more creative and exuberant cussing.