My First Traffic Ticket

Ann Arbor – Red and Green House

Originally uploaded by Star’s Universe

Thinking about my time at BK got me remembering about my first traffic ticket.

I worked with a woman whose name I don’t remember. She had a Ph.D. in history and she’d just finished up her degree. Whatever school-related assistance-ships or monies she had were no longer coming in and the rent still had to be paid on this little room she lived in in a big, old Ann Arbor house. I assume this is standard in most college towns? Big, beautiful houses get broken up into rooms and you’re paying as much for a room with shared bathroom and kitchen privileges as you do for a whole one-bedroom with a dishwasher and living-room air conditioning here in Lansing.

One night I was driving her home, still in our polyester outfits and silly hats. I had borrowed my mom’s car for the evening shift, so this must have been the summer stint before or after my freshman year of college. We were out sometime between midnight and one and I see the infamous flashing lights.

Now, I’d never been pulled over before. And that fight or flight response? it’s a real thing. In total opposition to my naturally law-abiding nature, I made a sharp turn into the neighborhood streets around me and hit the gas.

“I think you should stop,” History Ph.D. said.

“I will in a minute,” I replied. I was thinking Very, Very Clearly and my thought was: Get Away.

I had nothing illegal in the car, I had no warrants for my arrest (hell, I’d never had a traffic ticket), I don’t even think I was speeding. I think one of the headlights was out.

I dashed around a few side streets, still in my Thinking Very Clearly mode. I turned off the lights, speed parked, and started to climb under the dash. At this point my regular nature began to take over and my first thought was that I would look more guilty sitting in a dark vehicle hiding under the dash than I would with my headlights on and my seat belt properly attached. I sat up. I turned on the lights.

The cops weren’t far. They pulled up behind. We waited a few minutes while they ran our plates. Then one approached the window. He was very cute.

“Did you try to outrun me?” he asked with an indulgent smile.

“I was just scared to death,” I said.

He nodded and smiled a little more. I don’t imagine a BK outfit inspires a Bonnie-and-Clyde sense of cop-defying wrong-doing. They didn’t even ask us to step out of the car. I got my ticket and we drove away. The History Ph.D. woman didn’t ask for any more rides home with me.