So I got a speeding ticket this past Friday.  I was out in the middle of no where for work as I was caught going what would be 64 in a 55 zone.  It was a (Virginia) state trooper that pulled me.

It was a Friday afternoon, I was still a couple of hours from home and had one more thing to do before I could even start to head home.  So I was kind of rushing.  I admit I was speeding.

My company truck looks like your standard state-issued work truck.  It is a white Chevy Colorado with orange lights mounted to the roof.  The reason for the lights is because one of my job duties requires that I do work right off the edge of the road.  To be honest, I normally felt I would get the benefit of a doubt, as concerned to speeding, just because I was in such a vehicle.  Wrong.

I am driving down this straight country road with a hint of civilization just ahead as I notice a state trooper heading towards me.  I noticed him slightly later than I could have as I started to hit the brakes to slow down.  As the cop was passing me, I gave him a wave.  The kind of wave where my hand never actually leaves the steering wheel.

Right as I pass him I see blue lights in the corner of my eye and later in my rear-view mirror as he made a u-turn in the middle of the two lane road.  He was after me.  I felt helpless as the thought of driving faster to get away entered my mind.  It was a thought that I was never going to actually act upon.

So there I was driving, just watching the cop slowly catch up to me.  I had to wait until he made it evident that it was his attention to pull me over just in case he was going to pass me.  No such luck as he was right on my tail and the blue lights were even more evident than before.

I flipped on my orange lights as I slowed down to find a safe place to pull over.  I finally found a good location to pull over as I was entering a small town with a 35 mph speed zone.  The thoughts were racing through my head as to what witty response I might be able to say to hopefully get off on the evident speeding ticket I was about to get.

At this point, my truck is parked off to the side of the road as my eyes are still glued to the rear-view mirror.  The trooper was taking his sweet time as he mounted and adjusted his cap.  Finally he got out of his car and approached the side of my vehicle.

Throughout this time I was thinking of what to say but was really drawing a blank.  I knew I was in the wrong.  So when I rolled down my window, the only thing I could think to say:

“So what seems to be the problem, officer?”

“You know what you did.  You were speeding.  That is why you slowed down so much once you saw me.  You even took the time to wave as I went by,”  he said in a belittling tone.

I asked “well what speed did you clock me at?”

“66 in a 55, now can I have your license and registration.”

I reached for my wallet and pulled out my license .  Next I leaned over to the glove compartment to get the registration.  I really had no idea what to say as I was fumbling through random stuff in the glove compartment.  Finding the registration was like finding a needle in a hay stack.

The cop didn’t have anything to add as I handed him the items he requested.  He walked back to his car as another cop car pulled up, this one unmarked.  Great, I thought to myself.  Evidently it takes two cops to issue a standard speeding ticket.

Well it turned out that the other cop was just stopping to say hello as he pulled off within a couple of minutes.  While he was pulling off and my officer was visibly filling out yellow paperwork that would later be issued to me, I started to question myself.  I wonder if one of the reasons why I got pulled was because I waved to him?  Was it that last thing that made him decide to go after me?  I guess I will never know.

Just as rehearsed earlier, the officer readjusted his cap as he got out of his car and headed to my side.

“Well, I tell you what I am gonna do.  I knocked off a couple of miles on your speed to get it within 10 miles over.  I did that because you were so cooperative and you have a perfect driving record.  I understand it is a Friday afternoon and you are probably just looking to get back home.”  As he leaned to give me the paperwork he continued “but, that is how we do things out here in ‘Hooterville’”

I held back the laughter as I said ”oh no, it’s nothing like that.”

But inside I knew he was right, it really was “Hooterville.”  I have never heard of that term before, but I knew he was trying to say that he resides out in BFE (my chosen term for such a place).

What the cop car looked like that pulled me.

He started to tell me about what my options would be from this point forward, as far as paying for the ticket is concerned.  I asked what he would do, and the conversation changed.  He almost became friendly as he gave me some advice as to how to “possibly” get the offense removed from my record as to keep a clean driving record, while at the same time saving myself the trouble of going to court.

He told me about some free online driving courses to take, of which I have yet to find a free one online.  He told me to take one, write a letter about how it was a Friday afternoon and I must have been “absent-minded.”  Send in the certificate about the taking of the online course with the letter.

“Depending on what mood the judge is in, you could likely get off the hook.”  He went on to say, “now don’t say in the letter that I told you this.  I am telling you this as just another person, and not as a cop.”

I just nodded my head as he was finishing up.  Then out of no where, with music getting louder and louder and then zooming away along with a Jeep Wrangler that must have been going about 55 mph flew by.  Remember I am now in a 35 mph zone.

The cop looked interrupted as he said “man, I wish my car was pointing the other way.  They must have been going at least 20 mph over.”

This was a perfect opportunity for me to say something along the lines of ”well you pulled me after making a u-turn and I was only going 10 over.  Why not go get them?  Isn’t that discriminating?”

But I thought better to keep my mouth shut.  Or was it for the better?  Again, I will never know.

He ended it all with a “have a good day,” as I drove off.  This time paying attention to where the needle on the speedometer was pointing.  Looking back, I really failed to give the cop a good reason at all to just let me slide.  I am actually pretty disappointed about that.  Normally, I would be the first to come up with some extravagant way of getting out of a mess.  But not this time.  Sigh, I hate Hooterville.