If you guessed me, you are correct. It was pretty funny, actually. I was on my way to pick up my friend, Criss, so that we could make the long drive to San Diego for the Con. No, not Comic Con, with its
violence and mayhem, but
Awesomecon, which lasts about three hours and included free Ben and Jerry's ice cream.
So, I've mentioned before that Sandy (the new car) is my first automatic transmission vehicle. I mean, I've driven automatics before, but never owned one. I prefer a manual transmission. With Jamie, well, I always knew how fast I was going by which gear I was in, and honestly, anything over 40mph caused her to shimmy wildly. My first day or two with Sandy I noticed that what felt like crawling was really pretty fast. That's because she's a smooth ride and I'm not used to that sort of thing. It's been an ongoing issue for the past 20 days. I feel like I'm barely moving, but really I'm doing 40+ mph. Yesterday, I was doing over 50mph.
I had just turned onto Fairfax from Santa Monica Blvd and was just going through the light at Willoughby when I thought to myself, "Oh, I'm going kind of fast." Then I saw the motorcycle cop on the corner. Then I saw him pull out and follow me. I didn't even wait for him to turn the lights on. I just pulled over to the side of the road and let him catch up.
Police: Good Morning, ma'am. I'm pulling you over today because you were going pretty fast back there.
Me: I know! [aiming for surprised, but sounding incredibly proud of myself instead]
Police: Uhhhh [I think he was expecting me to try to come up with an excuse so I explained]
Me: See, it's a new car...well, new to me anyway...and you see, I've always driven a stick and you know, you know how fast you're going because you have to shift and all. But with this car, it's so smooth that I just don't realize how fast I'm going until I'm going really fast and then it's like "Whoa!"
Police: [nodding] License and registration, please.
Me: I don't have the registration yet because I just got it. See that thing on my window?
Police: Okay, same address? and are you the registered owner?
I nodded and he walked over to the side and wrote up the ticket. Police: Okay, it's pretty standard. I'm giving you a ticket for doing 53 in a 35mph zone.
Me: Hey, would you believe I'm dyslexic?
Police: [chuckling, but ignoring me] Sign here. There's instructions on what you need to do on the back.
Police: [as I'm signing] You're not the fastest person I've stopped today.
Me: Oh? At least I have something to aspire to.
Police: [laughing out loud] Please don't. Drive safely and keep an eye on that speed.
Me: Thanks! I'll do my best!
And I tried, I really did, but have you ever actually driven 35 mph? It's sloooow. Like, horse and buggy slow. I even tried to stay relatively close to speed limit on the freeway, but cars were just zooming past me and I confess, I may have crept up to 80 or so. I can't help it. Sandy just drives so smooth and easy.
Also, can I get a high five for nearly 30 years of driving without any sort of moving violation ticket? I'm going to have points! I'm going to have to do traffic school! Ah, crap.
San Diego was lovely, though. Not too hot, fun and games, and free ice cream!