Thursday, March 1, 2007

Hail Mary, Thin Mints

The past couple of days I've been going 9-0 (as in MPH), trying to keep up with family, household and a bad situation at work. This morning I went to the "poor woman's spa" (the blood donor bank) in an attempt to take a few minutes, put my feet up and be pampered. They treat you like you're the most special person. They also have great snacks. As soon as I got out the door, I put my roller skates back on and started flying through the day, looking forward to when things would slow down! Unfortunately, my forced slowing down came in the form of a police officer and a radar gun. I was heading to the bowling alley with a van full of Girl Scouts, when I landed smack in the middle of a speed trap. I was totally, completely, unequivacably at fault, along with the three other cars lined up on a side street, waiting for one of three officers to come over and do the "registration, license, proof of insurance," routine. As Officer Adams walked over to my car, radar gun in hand, I casually straightened the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, and turned around to the girls in the back, hissing "Say a Hail Mary." Immediately hands waved in the sign of the cross, and hands were folded in prayer. I still hadn't realized the extent of the violation (I was going with the flow of traffic, hauling along at a good clip) but when he explained the situation and I saw the radar gun flashing my speed -- my Catholic guilt kicked in and I almost begged him to just ticket me. After checking my driving record, he asked, "how long have you had a license in Colorado?" To my reply, "32 years," he responded, "And you've never had a ticket?!" I felt as smug as when I'd left the blood bank that morning. God bless Officer Adams. He explained that I wasn't the kind of traffic violator they were looking to give a citation -- I eagerly interjected that I had a carful of Girl Scouts, that I am a rule-follower by nature -- and let me go with a warning. He even glanced toward the back of the van and hopefully asked if we had any cookies. If we had, I would have given the man a case of Thin Mints.

1 comment:

knitty ~ in the south said...

That is a great story. I remember being stopped when my oldest (24) was about 3. He was so mad at the police man. And I kept telling him that it was mommy's fault and I had done a no-no and I needed to "pay the consequences". Yikes. Why do we have to learn the hard ones in front of others?