Today started out with me sleeping through my alarm. I just happened to wake up a half hour before I had to leave. In girl terms...that leaves a shower. Followed by you don't have time to NOT look like shit today.
I couldn't get my contacts in without piercing pain like I was putting glass shards in there. Weird. So I had to don the slutty school marm Vera Wang glasses, put the hair up like the Robert Palmer bitches, and throw on some coordinating clothes and try to blend in. Add the makeup. Forgot the jewelry accessories. The NOT being noticed thingy is important today...because I looketh liketh the shit.
I forgot that aspect of blending in whilst driving into work.
Enter: The Cop.
Wait...before The Cop, I had been trying to wake up by jamming out to a very socially UN-acceptable song with lots of f-bombs and bass. I will leave the artist anonymous as to not discredit him in this production because he is the innocent party. Rap music does not cause people to speed. Bass wakes you up from your toes. At least my PoPo experiments have proven this to be true. The Gold Beast is famously known for its sporty dent and good stereo. On occasion...I have to try it out...the stereo, not the dent. Well, OK, on every occasion.
Besides having a faulty bed (aka dent), a fuse that is blown causing me not to have backup lights and a signal... the gas pedal gets stuck...or something.
Enter: The Cop.
I'm really not sure how long he had his lights on before I did the jerk and stop.
I quickly did the SHIT OF THEE PANTS and turned it to Christian radio.
Me, being of the Upper Poor economic status, is not below trying everything to get out of a ticket.
I pulled my shirt up so the girls were not peaking out. Christian radio on. Looking nicely for driver's license, insurance, and registration which took all of 3 seconds because I am prepared. He was slow. I took more time to put my glasses down to my nose.
COP: Good morning, mam. Do you know why I stopped you?
ME: Well, officer. I probably was speeding because I was listening to my God fix on the radio and had my head in the clouds. I am so sorry.
COP: (cute little feller-smiled) Yes, mam. I got you clocked going 52 in a 40.
ME: Oh my! Oh, I did not know I was going that fast. I am so glad you stopped me. I could have hurt someone.
COP: Yes, mam. How is your driving record?
ME: Oh. Well, it was good but I got a seat belt ticket on there I think.
COP: Ok, mam. I'm going to go check. If that is all there is on there, I am going to give you a warning, but if not I will probably give you a ticket. Just so you know it will be one or the other. Ok?
ME: Yes, officer. I understand you are just doing your job. Thank you.
COP: I'll be right back with you.
ME: Ok. Thank you.
[He left. I smirked. IF I ONLY HAVE A SEAT BELT CITATION ON MY DRIVING RECORD, I GET A WARNING! Oh, funny. He was a cute little feller.]
He returned shortly and handed me my license, registration, and insurance.
COP: Here you go, mam. I'm going to give you a warning today. Just slow it down, please, and watch your speeds through towns.
ME: Oh, thank you, officer. I so appreciate it. I will definitely watch my speed. God bless you.
And I drove 52 all the rest of the way to work. Why? Because it was a 55 zone and I was punishing myself.
I feel so dirty.
I faked it. And I used God's name in there.