Yesterday I thought I would do my husband a favor and run down to the clinic, pick up his prescription and drop it at the pharmacy. I had just picked up the kids from school, and we headed downtown. It’s rare that I pick up the kids all myself, but Blondie was home sick, so I did the rounds, gathered the kiddos and headed off to do my errands for the afternoon.
Of course the prescription wasn’t ready, I couldn’t get it, thanks to privacy laws I couldn’t even speak to the nurse about it, and as I left the clinic, I was quickly reminded that no good deed goes unpunished! I turned from Main Street to the highway and was immediately stopped by the boys in blue.
Why? Because my inspection sticker had expired, in December. Do you think he gave me a warning? No. Of course not. The exact same cop chased me down in September when my registration went out, I’m thinking his eyeballs are either drawn to my bright red Yukon, or he has it out for me. Oh wait, it can’t be the Yukon, cuz this guy also once stopped me for what he called a crack in the tail light of hubby’s truck. It wasn’t even a crack, it was a scratch that made white light shine through a pin hole. Apparently white light on the tail light is a no-no. That wasn’t a warning either…. The worst part of this, I have given up my speed demon ways, at least when in town! So these aren’t even moving violations.
Ok, so I’m not good at keeping up with stickers. To my husband’s constant dismay, I don’t look at tires, check oil, or replace fuses. I crank and drive. I assume that Daddy will take care of the rest, I mean if he can do million dollar restorations surely he can keep me on the road.
I tried to strike a deal with the officer. “How ’bout you give me a warning, and I will drive straight over to Bob’s Speedy Lube and get my car inspected.” To which I was told “I am writing you a citation; you may go get your inspection sticker and pay $20 to get it dismissed.”
Thanks! That some favor. I love flushing my money down the toilet. What ever happened to cops that give working people a break? I mean, I know this is gonna make a few people angry, because yes, I should be on top of the stickers, but in a town this size, everyone knows I’m that lady who had 3 kids and took in 4 more, and has been a little distracted caring for them. The same police were involved in all the madness that brought me 4 more children, so excuse me if I don’t look at the stickers, my mind is always on a zillion different tracks. I’m still adjusting to this super-sized life. And to be honest, for anyone who’s sticker is less than a month out, come on now… a warning should do. We have a huge drug problem across the tracks, wouldn’t it be better to go over there looking for crack than to stay on the highway looking for expired stickers?
While I was waiting for my citation, I was reminded of the first time I decided good deeds cause nothing but trouble. I was 16 and at my step-dad’s company picnic. My sister and I left to run to a store, for drinks or something, I can’t even remember anymore. I saw this young, obviously poor girl walking with a baby on her hip. She had a milk jug in hand and judging by the surroundings, she was walking to get gas for the ugliest boat I had ever seen on the side of a highway. She didn’t have shoes on and it was at least 100 degrees outside. I felt sorry for her feet on the black asphalt, so I pulled over and picked her up, took her to get gas and carried her back to her car. Upon leaving, I was in a fender bender.
To make matters worse, the lady I had the wreck with was not very honest. Not only did she use her age to convince the cop that she was right and I was wrong, but also she later tried to sue my parents for some non-existent injuries. All because I wanted to help the barefooted young mama put some fuel in her tank.
(Side note, my step-dad was a Drill Instructor, and I was petrified to show him the wrecked vehicle. I was shaking all the way back to the picnic. It was the world before cell-phones, so I could not text a warning, I pulled up, headlight hanging off, shaking in my shorts, and you know what I got? A hug! I got a “that’s just a car, at least you’re ok”. That’s something I will never forget.)
I used to cry and get nervous every time I was pulled over, but since this is becoming a habit of Rockdale PD, I have become quite ballsy in my communications with the ticket-issuing officer. Before I drove away, I asked him point-blank if he just has it in for me. “My husband drove this car all weekend long, did anyone stop him? No… I’m starting to feel like you just miss seeing my smiling face! In fact, I think you may keep a calendar of exactly when my stickers expire.”
A discussion followed, which led me to believe that his wife also expects hubby to take care of stickers and oil changes. “Who drives the car the most?” He asked. “Hey, I’m the zookeeper! When I drive, I’m tending to the wild animals in the backseat. If you wanna stop this car for an expired sticker, wait til Daddy’s driving!”
At least I made him laugh…