We’re halfway to our new home state!
We drove about 9 hours today, and will do another 7 hours tomorrow–everyone is holding up well and there was surprisingly little whining about how long the car ride was. I’m glad I didn’t do the drive straight through thing…turns out, I’m exhausted. Not just tired, but wiped out. I think I’ve been riding high on an adrenaline rush the past 30 days, and now that the end is near it’s kind of wearing off a little.
I’ll save our goodbye’s to Colorado for another post, right now Sassy is waiting for me to snuggle with her in our hotel room. Instead, I’ll give a little PSA about avoiding a speeding ticket. So far, I’m 0-2 in getting one, and I think I have a pretty good method.
The first ticket I got out of, I was doing 75 in a 45 mph zone. Which was totally lame, because between Ouray, Co, and Denver the mostly 2 lane highway goes through nothing but open land…mostly at 75 mph. But there are strange pockets where it goes down to 45. I was in one of those pockets when I zoomed past 10 cars–one of them a police officer. It took me passing 5 more before I realized what I’d done. Obviously, he was right behind me at that point.
#1: Talk Country.
After I pulled over and he said, “I’ll need to see your drivers license, registration, and insurance” is when my plan started. It wasn’t a plan at that point, it was just my immediate reaction. “OMG! I’ve never been pulled over before! I have no idea what that means!” I drawled. When I get nervous, I adopt the Louisiana accent of a former roomate for some weird reason. It makes me sound Britney Spears stupid, and not the Britney “I’m speaking in an English accent” dumb but the Britney “We always drive with our babies on our lap down PCH! I’m country y’all!!!” dumb.
The police officer paused, then said, “They should be in your glove compartment.”
#2: Be ignorant and talk a lot.
I have a habit of talking fast and continuously when I’m nervous, with lots of nervous laughter. It also helps if you’ve recently ingested all this:
I opened the glove compartment which spilled years of various receipts and other random crap out of it.
“OMG, I have no idea what’s in here. I shove everything in! I’ve never seen a registration card! Is it big or little?! My husband would know where it is, he gets pulled over all the time! Is it this one? This one? OMG, I am SO nervous y’all! With you just standing there, I’m getting all freaked out! No wonder my friend cried when she got pulled over! I had no idea the speed limit was 45, y’all! I don’t understand this road! It’s 75 and then BAM, all of a sudden 45! Why do they do that? It’s so confusing….”
all the while, I’m tossing paper at the police officer from the glove compartment…”Is this what you need? Is this it? OMG, I have so many pieces of paper in here y’all!”
#3: Be nice.
“I’m so sorry you have to sit here like this, waiting for everything. You have such important business to do than sit here waiting on me! I should call my husband to see where it is. I’m so nervous I can’t even remember my phone number! I’ll try to hurry it up, I want to get you back on the road protecting people! … ”
#4: Hope for the best.
By this time, the officer should be either charmed or totally annoyed. The first time, he was annoyed and amazed that anyone so completely ignorant could be driving a minivan. He gave me a warning just to make it all stop, I think. The second time, which was tonight (!!!) he was charmed. Although I think it’s BS that he pulled me over for going 86 in a 75 zone. Only 1 mile over the 10 mile accepted overspeed! He was also freezing his butt off, standing outside the car window shining a flashlight in to my glove compartment so I could see all the papers inside. The registration card I finally found was ’08, but by that time he’d had enough. “This is old. I suggest you throw it away and find your new one. But not now, don’t worry, I’m just giving you a warning to slow down, OK?”
I think that about does it. You should then be free to continue on your merry way!
Hey, guess what? I finally am seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. 30 days of darkness, and today I saw lots and lots of light. Literally and figuratively. Thank you, Universe.
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