Driving

I feel like I have a lot to say.  And because I have a bad case of verbal vomit, I also seem to have a case of writer's block.  So I am starting with a light hearted story first.

Last weekend  I decided to go visit my mom.  It was mother's day, after all.  So after work on Friday, I headed out for the short 3.5 hour drive.  Michelle, my trusted GPS, was on and in the car.  I drove about 2 hours, down the regular path. 

Then all of a sudden, Michelle asked me to turn down a road I don't normally take.  I complied.  Then I got worried.  Did this road hook up with the road I needed to cross the river?  So I was driving and checking on the GPS.

And then I see the blue lights in my rear view mirror.  Perfect!  Great!  Was I speeding?  What is the speed limit here?

A very nice sheriff comes up to the window.  No, really, she was nice.  She asks for license, registration, and proof of insurance.  Proof of insurance?  Am I suppose to carry that?  Luckily I found it.  She asks where I am going.  She seems happy that I heading to see my mom.  She asks when my last speeding ticked was.  She almost fell over when I said never.

She didn't give me a ticket.  This was really nice since I was going 58 in a 45.  She was in a good mood. 

I don't normally have that kind of luck so I decided to take it as a gift.  I decided to be aware of my speed.  And the speed limit. 

Until 15 miles later.  No joke.  I am crossing the bridge and I see blue lights in the rear view mirror.  AGAIN!  There is no way I am getting out of this twice.  In 15 miles. 

This sheriff was less nice.  To the tune of $145. 

Was I speeding?  Obviously.  I was going 50 in a 30.  In my defense, the speed limit was 50 leading up to the bridge.  Apparently, the speed limit drops to 30 on the bridge.  Immediately following the bridge, it goes back up to 50.

I paid the ticket.

Mean Mama