GM from a Grateful BWSM
Adrenalin is Bridgewater Soccer Mom's coffee this morning.
As my Facebook friends know, I spend a lot of energy racing for trains. This morning, as I was pushing 55 mph on the main thoroughfare between Route 22 and our street (I regularly run this road and complain about speeding drivers), I saw the cop and I knew...
He did a U-turn, and before he even put on his lights, I'd signaled and pulled over.
I rolled down my window and before he said anything I handed him my license and registration and blurted out that I'd been speeding. He finally got a word in.
"Are you driving to work?"
"I'm racing to catch the train."
He asked if it was the 6:20. I looked for the insurance card, saw the date was expired, then in my fog realized something, and picked up my phone and fumbled with it... "The insurance is now an app."
Before I could find and open it, he let me go. No warning. No lecture. He said he didn't want me to be late for work.
I missed my train (I'm writing this on the local). But I learned my lesson. There's always another train.
My mind is racing. First, it is bad karma to speed on the same road that I regularly run.
Second, I wonder the whys. Did he let me off with a warning because of my polite tone or because of my blatant honesty?
Or was it something else? My soccer mom car (a five year old, grey SUV)? Race or "class" or my professional clothes? That I live in the neighborhood?
This makes me wonder how others experience it when they get pulled over. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't even afraid of the ticket (it would have been justified, as I shouldn't have been driving so fast).
Was this morning's events the result of white privilege (the neighborhood, me) or was it that I was preemptively honest and didn't try to get out of the ticket? Don't most people?
Perhaps he was just a nice guy who genuinely didn't want to cause me to be late for work.
Thank you. Whatever the reason. Have a great day. I will.