Gee Officer Krupke, Krup You

It’s always hard to cope when something happens that forces you to change your perception. You’ve conditioned yourself to think one way, it’s almost impossible to imagine feeling the opposite. When this happens, it really makes you do some hard thinking. Take for example John Edwards. I volunteered for his campaign a couple of times last year, thought he was inspiring and had really great hair. I even had an autographed copy of his book “Home” on my coffee table, that I now use to kill bugs because.... I found out he cheated on his cancer-stricken wife. I want my time back.

Or the more recent example of my elicit love affair with driving. I never realized how much I would miss it when I moved to the city. The freedom, the great acoustics for belting along to the radio, the zoom zoom. I love driving. When I’m at home, sometimes, I’ll take the long way to places in order to just keep driving. And then... On my way to play tennis with Meredith this past weekend in Morristown, cruising on 287, rocking out to Ne-Yo... I got pulled over. I hate driving.

Over comes Officer Asswipe, oh I’m sorry I meant, State Police Officer Asswipe to tell me there he was driving along in the right lane while I passed him going about 70 in the posted 55 mph speed limit. Based on pace (translation: perception), he has pulled me over. Where am I going? ...To play tennis, I’m not from around here, I have my GPS, wasn’t really sure where I was going. Maybe confused and lost will get me off? Not so much. He spies my tennis racket in the back and must know I can’t get “whoosh” when I swing, so therefore I am not much of a threat to him for assault with a deadly racket. Did I know the speed limit was 55? ...No, honestly I didn’t see a sign, I just got off Rt.80 and it was 65. Maybe dumb half-blonde will get me off? Yea no, and if it was a 65, my fine would be doubled. Didn’t I see him when I passed him? ...Actually no, I only saw you when you pulled up behind me. (I was too busy pretending I was Ne-Yo to bother with other cars on the road.) Maybe Ne-Yo will get me off? Really, Ne-Yo? That’s my argument? I should have just cried.

Basically at this point, I just want to pay the fine and forget about it. The faster I pay it, the faster I erase it from my collective memory. Trust me, I would have offered to hand Officer Asswipe cash through the window right then and there if that would have made the whole thing just be over (or if I wouldn’t have spent the night in lock-up for intent to bribe an Officer of the Ass). Unfortunately I have to wait until Monday to find out what my penalty is. And it’s $105. Ugh. In my sick and twisted way, I have equated that to 10 manicures that I will be sacrificing in order to teach myself a lesson. Now when my cuticles are rotting, I will remember not to break the law and maybe try to love driving again. I seriously need to stop being so hard on myself...