Hoping for a Ticket

Here's the deal: if I so much as look at a cop, they write me a ticket. I won't feign innocence. I've had my rebellious streak of pushing the speed limit and rolling through stop signs, but I'm a changed woman.

By about the age of eighteen, I realized vehicular submission was becoming an obedience issue, and I had an attitude adjustment. But I still got tickets.

The worst scenario was my sophomore year of college, driving back from Blake and Tina's for the first time. They lived in Missouri, about 2 1/2 hours from OWU, so I didn't anticipate issues. But when the sun went down, and the cops came out, tears inevitably followed. Have you ever been lost in the dark? It's so creepy and hopeless. Sunlight makes a huge difference when traversing unknown territory. And not one single cop took pity on me.

Long story short, within one mile, yep, just one, I was pulled over three times, and not one cop had compassion. Sobbing and feeling forsaken, my dear friends, Max and Ruth Ann Colaw, came to the rescue. I described my surroundings, and they came and picked me up. This is where I cue the Hallelujah Chorus!

Totally innocent of malicious speed or burnt out headlights, I had to pay the fees. And that was my last run-in with tickets.

But Josh? Guilty- yes. Punished- never.

On the way home from Weippe last night, after several games of Pitch with Don, Patty, an Tom, Josh and I were chatting away when red and blue lights appeared.

Josh looked down, realized he was going about 12 over, and promptly pulled off the road.

The police officer approached, and upon seeing the driver stated, "Oh, I didn't recognize your car. Could I get your license and registration?"

"Whose car is this?" To which I responded, "Mine."

"Oh, that's why I didn't know the driver," a.k.a., had I been alone...he would have pulled out the ticket book!

But for Josh? The guy didn't even run Josh's license. He stood at the window for about 60 seconds, told Josh he's driven that stretch of Weippe long enough to know the speed, then handed everything back and wished us a pleasant evening.

This is, and I'm not exaggerating, about the tenth time Josh has deserved a ticket, and gotten out of it. Speeding through a work zone on our honeymoon, while talking on the phone, cruising through Alva at top speed, rocketing across Montana in a Mercedes Benz, trucking through Burton, KS, IN A SPEED TRAP! But no tickets.

And each time that bearded husband of mine gets pulled over, I'm thinking, "Give him a ticket, give him a ticket!"

Yes, I know this will increase our insurance, and I know we'll have to pay a fine, but I want justice! It's so wrong, and Josh isn't even trying to get off Scott-free.

Maybe it's his honesty. Maybe his pleasantry. Maybe some gleam in his eye. But then again, maybe it's the beard.

I might have to start growing one...