For some time now, I've been trying to think of another story to write about for the "First Time" series. The last time I wrote something for it was over four months ago, about my first car. Since then, I've been tossing out idea after idea for a new First Time post. Nothing I was thinking of was worth writing about. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of things I could write about, but who would want to read a lengthy post about the first time I ate canned green beans?
I was all set to announce the retirement of the series today when the light bulb finally came on. So, like an old friend that suddenly reappears out of the blue, here is another installment to the First Time series, about the first time I talked my way out of a speeding ticket...
If you are the type of lead-foot driver that views speed limit signs as mere guidelines instead of rules, then you would hate to be stuck behind me on a one-lane road. I almost always drive the speed limit, if not slower, due to my fear of increased car insurance premiums if I ever got a ticket. With great effort, patience, and tolerance for being flipped off by pissed off, impatient drivers, I had made it four years without ever getting pulled over. Until late October 2007.
In late October 2007, The Boss and I were in the process of moving to a rented house about 2 hours away from where we currently lived. I was almost home from unloading another truck bed-full, and I decided to take a shortcut to save on time. Shortly after I turned off of the main road, I noticed a police cruiser turn onto the road behind me. I noted that the officer belonged to the town I was driving through, but didn't pay much attention to him after that.
I was cruising along at just under the posted speed, and soon passed a large sign stating "Thank You for Visiting Buxton", and then another sign that said "Welcome to Saco". The officer from Buxton Police was still following me, following about three car-lengths behind. As we passed over the crest of a large hill, I eased off the accelerator a little too late and coasted down the hill about 8 MPH over the speed limit. My eyes moved quickly from my speedometer to my rear view mirror, just in time to see the squad car behind me turn on it's lights and siren. I applied the brakes more liberally, and pulled over.
The younger-looking police officer, obviously pleased with himself, strutted over to my window with a deliberately slow gait, adjusting his tactical belt as he walked. He placed one hand on the rail of my truck bed, and leaned down.
"Good afternoon, sir. D'ya know why I pulled you over?" he asked. He emphasised the word noon as if it had some form of importance.
"Hello, Officer. I'm guessing you've pulled me over for speeding down that hill back there," I replied.
"Yeah, I clocked you doin' about ten over the limit, son. Can I see your license, registration, and insurance, please?" The officer scribbled on a small notebook as he spoke.
"Sure thing, Officer." I reached over to the glove compartment. "No disrespect by any means, but aren't you from Buxton police? I'm pretty sure we're in Saco, now. "
The officer stopped writing and looked at me. "Do what now?"
"The Buxton/Saco town line was about a mile back that way," I said, gesturing behind me with my thumb. "Wasn't it?"
Confused now, the officer took a step back and looked around. He absentmindedly clicked his pen open and closed a few times.
"Sit tight, sir. I'll be right back."
I watched intently as the officer returned to his squad car and checked his GPS. After a few moments he stepped out of the squad car again, this time without his notebook and pen.
"You're right, sir. It seems I am out of my jurisdiction," the officer said, and then coughed nervously. "Consider this a freebie, and remember to watch your speed."
"Will do, Officer," I said, smiling on the inside. "Have a good afternoon."
As I started my truck up, I watched smugly as the officer got into his squad car. I put the folder with my registration and insurance back in the glove box, and buckled my seat belt. Executing a quick three-point turn, the officer drove away in the opposite direction. I drove away in silence, feeling a little shaky from adrenaline. It wasn't my intention to try to talk my way out of a ticket, but I wasn't about to question what had just happened, either.
The whole ordeal, from pulling over to pulling away, took less than five minutes. I've never heard of this happening to anyone else. Feel free to share your stories, if you have any, of the funniest or worst experience with getting pulled over.