Wednesday, March 21, 2012

"pullover! no, it's a cardigan...but thanks for asking."


 Sure, I drive an autobot who is fancy and pretty and raises and lowers and operates like an Arcade game, but lately my sassy minivan has been causing me much strife. Because I have been too busy cursing her high maintainence tendencies under my breath, I semi-forgot how lucky I am to have her in my life. [Tangent: My sweet car is getting older (she's 4) and is needing the kinds of tweaks that come with age, which would be fine if she was your everyday automotive- but she's not.  Because she is worth more than my life and cannot be driven by anyone but me, 99% of mechanics are scared shitless to change her oil or her battery or do any small semingly minute repairs to her. The things that should be easy are made expoentially harder, so I just ignore them and hope they will go away. Such is life. C'est La Vie.]

Sunday, not coincidentally the day after St. Patty's, was not one of those days. Driving to spend a sunny afternoon with my honey, I got a blaring blue reminder of exactly how lucky I am. I was driving through downtown Brentwood [Tangent: Where I am usually my most dilligent when it comes to my adherance to my Tennessee Driver's Handbook given the lack of actual crime in the area and the over abundant law force.] when caught in the median by a yellow light turning red, so I proceeded through the light because it was kinda too late to stop.

I however completely missed the cop car camoflaging itself behind a Ford Taurus when I was making this hasty decision to bend the law [Tangent: I WILL NOT say break because I was just choosing the lesser of two evils.].  He turned around and followed me. I tried to pretend that he just sporadically decided that he wanted something at the Shell station, but I knew the sirens tolled for me. I also told myself, "Kimmie...you are not getting your first ticket today." [Tangent: I like to pretend that if you say it that it will be true. Kinda like The Secret, but slightly less delusional. ]

I pulled into the Harris Teeter parking lot and awkwardly parked. Sunglasses perched on my head and happiest face ever plastered across my mug, "Hi officer! How are you today?" He was clearly caught off guard by my optimism and my robot car interior, but went on to compose himself.



Captain states-the-obvious went on to tell me that that I had indeed run the red light and inform me that my tags had been expired since September [Tangent: Yeah...about that...remember when I mentioned earlier that my car is a pain in the ass to get repairs on. Well, what happened was... in September, I went to go get my emissions tested, but failed miserably because my check engine light was on. I gave up because I was broke and not a mechanical genius.] Double fail. I suck at life...or at least the regulatory driving part of life.

However, as is my life motto "Honesty is the best policy." I told the copper that very scenario and even offered to show him the failed emissions test. He declined...in fact, he didn't even ask to see my license or registration. [Tangent: If pop culture has taught me anything, that request comes standard, right? For all he knows, he could have been letting an escaped child rapist go. What a terrible thing to have on your conscious. Oh, well.] He simply requested that I get some new tags and stop running red lights. I shook his hand and agreed. I was halfway tempted to pinkie promise, but tried to act mature in the situation.

So for now...my driving record remains sparkling clean! Thanks robot car, I am 99% sure that without you, I would not be so lucky. As my friend Courtney always says, "People are scared of the wheelchair." Well, they are apparently also scared of the robot car.

3 comments:

  1. Almost as good as when a cop asks you to step out of the vehicle and you ask him to fetch the wheelchair out of the back. Totally understand the mechanic issue and our van only has hand controls. Yours is pretty tight!

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  2. Whew! Thank goodness! The only ticket that I've ever received was in a backwoods Georgia town where (no joke), the cop said to me, "Now little lady...just where do you think you're going so fast?"

    And you're right about Brentwood. That stretch down Franklin road is just ripe with them for one. But now..what are you going to do about your car? There has to be a mechanic somewhere....I hope?

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  3. OH LAWD!!! Cracking up!! Gosh, you have a fantastic sense of humor. Thanks :)

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