Tag Archives: Speeding ticket

A Speeding Ticket after 28 Years

I will immediately admit that it was totally my fault.  Saying that, let me quote my son: “Let’s take Hwy 19; it’s two lane, 55 mph all the way there.”

I got my first speeding ticket in over 28 years.  Dammit.  I was so pissed. Of course it was in this dinky ass town called Plummersville and the end of the month and blah, blah, blah. I had never been there before and trust me, will never go there again.

I was cited for going 52 in a 35.  Which I know was not true because there was the 45 mph and then BAM!  50 feet later was the sign for 35 mph.  (They may be a small town but not stupid in knowing ways to obtain money).

When I went online to look up my fine, it was $180.00. WTF!   Surely they jest.  Figuring that I could at least reduce the amount of the ticket, I duly put the date for traffic court on my Outlook calendar and planned on presenting my side of the story (not including my son’s stupid advice).

Used GPS to find the courthouse. Drove by the damn thing three times before finally rolling down my window and asking someone.  “This is it,” they told me.  I was dumbfounded.  Never would have even guessed.

Because this “courthouse” was definitely more like a community hall/fire station/employee lounge/after school program room.  Not kidding.  Because all I could see were metal folding chairs and tables, a microwave and fridge and several cheery religious signs on the wall.  When I walked in, I asked someone where I signed in.  They just looked at me.  “You don’t,” they said.  So I just sat down.

I seriously wanted to take a picture but with the many cops and a few other employees, I was definitely afraid of saying or doing anything other than sitting on that damn uncomfortable metal chair.  And checking my work email because I certainly had other things I could be doing.

Finally the “judge” (I have to use the term loosely here) got the rollie chairs from the lounge area and set up at the folding table at the front of the room.  As the court employee called out names, no one responded.  Finally, after several of these, the judge announced that everyone could just line in up in alphabetical order and he would speak with each person.

When my name was called, I went up the front and explained that I was “not going 52 in a 35; but would agree that I was going 52 in a 45.”

The judge’s response was; “Hon, it doesn’t matter how fast you were going, if you plead guilty you will pay the fine.”

“I respectfully request that you do not call me ‘hon’ and to clarify—it wouldn’t matter if I were in a 35 or 45 mph zone, the fine would be the same?”

“No, if you were going 20 mph over the speed limit, you would also have been cited for reckless driving.  How do you plead?”

“Guilty and do you take credit cards?”

“Yes, pay the clerk $180.00.” (Wait, this gets better)

So I go to the cop-clerk and hand him my ticket and credit card. He looks at me and then says he isn’t sure he can process the credit card because “the last time I tried to do it, the entire card was ruined.”

“But I was told you could take a credit card.”

“Well, we can but Doris has to do it.”

“And where is Doris?”

“Up there with the judge so you’ll have to wait until she is done.”

Now, mind you my last name is at the beginning of the alpha so I REALLY did not want to hang around for another 30 minutes.  And I didn’t bring my Jimmy Dean frozen sausage biscuit to cook in the microwave.

“Now,” the cop-clerk continued.  “You could go to the Country Store and use the ATM to get cash.  I can take that.”

“You have to be bloody kidding me,” I muttered as I left the room, got in my car and drove to the Country Store and used their ATM.

I returned to the courthouse/after school center/church fellowship hall with my cash and proceeded to the cop-clerk again. By this time “Doris” was free and could have taken my credit card but since I now had cash, this wasn’t an issue. I did feel obligated to tell Doris that cop-clerk needed to obviously have training on taking credit card payments. She didn’t care.

Here is a picture of the outside of the courthouse.  If I had waited 10 minutes, I could have included the judge smoking a cigarette next to the vending machine.

If you look really close, you can see the paper “Court House” sign taped to the door.



Continued car bitch…

My husband has to extend his stay in Alabama so I am forced to drive his bat mobile for a few more days.  This is starting to get ugly.  And by ugly I mean his car is getting dirty inside and out and the longer I drive it, the worst it is going to get.  You can already see my finger swipes on the dirt on the trunk. My husband would NEVER let his car get that dirty!

My new complaints:

  • He thought he was being funny by setting the MPH “alarm” on the car so whenever I went over 80 MPH, it would go off.  Forget that, I used the Dick Wand mentioned earlier and turned that shit right off. Nice try, though.
  • Saying that, I glance down while going home on 75 and see that I am going 92 MPH.  Whoa!  Sure didn’t feel that fast but I am pretty sure if I use that statement it will most probably NOT work if I do get pulled over.  So now I always check my speed.  Well, most of the time.  Because if I do get a speeding ticket, it will totally not be my fault.
  • I know my husband has worked hard on his blacked out Camaro.  But this cute face was hanging out the window coming home from the groomers.


Christmas bow and all!  Maybe not the overall look he wanted but then he wasn’t driving. BTW, Casey kept on rolling down all the windows by stepping on the auto buttons.  I finally gave up and just turned the heat on high.

  • Getting really tired of hitting my head every time I get in.  Either the seat has to be lower or my head needs something done with it.  And just think – his next plan is to lower the whole car by 1.5 inches.  I swear if that happens I’ll need to crawl into the damn thing.
  • I started out being really good about parking far away in the parking lot.  But it is Christmas after all.  So I guess I am playing small dent roulette here.  I’ll take my chances.


Is it the driver or the car?

The reason I am asking is because my daughter drove my car the other day and got pulled over for speeding.  She didn’t get a ticket but I had to hear ALL ABOUT IT because my glove box was so DISGUSTING and FULL OF CRAP that it took her 10 minutes just to find the registration and insurance information while the cop patiently stood waiting next to the car.  Which resulted in all my glovebox paraphernalia being dumped out and then wouldn’t all fit back inside when the cop let her go with a warning.


I told her I knew exactly where the information was – inside the plastic baggie thing is my car book and inside that is an envelope titled “Important Papers” and that is where you can find my registration and insurance.  To her benefit, she absolutely KNEW I had the paperwork; you don’t live with my husband and not have everything you need when you need it.  It’s just that it took awhile to get through all the oil change receipts, Starbucks straws, miscellaneous receipts, matches, tire thingy, pens, sunglasses, etc.

Because even I know that I am way overdue for a speeding ticket. So I was rather happy to hear that she got pulled over; I told her that meant my car was caught so I am now free and clear.  We had an argument because she doesn’t agree with my assessment but I think it is correct – it is the car NOT the driver!

And speaking of cars – I had to drive my husband’s car to work today.  I recently had new tires and guess what?  They put on the wrong size and I immediately had this loud scraping noise when I turned the wheel.  Of course they said it wasn’t that but damn – I didn’t have this sound BEFORE the tires, right?  Anyway so I got to drive the batmobile and was immediately pissed to see that it needed gas. But I couldn’t really complain about it because my husband was going to deal with the whole tire issue and I sure didn’t want to hang around the car shop all day.  So I pulled up to the gas station on the wrong side (of course) and then couldn’t find the gas release button.  I looked all over.  Once I was totally pissed off, I opened up the glove box (which contained exactly THREE items – included with the car manual was an air freshener. Really?  In the glovebox?) and proceeded to find out how to fill his damn car up with gas.  Guess what?  It didn’t have a button.  You just pushed on the side and a little spring would unlock it.  Yeah.  Didn’t think of that.  But I did wonder how stupid I must have looked going through the car book at the gas pump.


And his car is a decked out all black Camaro which wants to go really, really fast.  I was going to take my camera, get the car up to 86 on the highway and then take a picture.  But then I thought this idea through a bit more and decided I would have a very difficult time explaining to a cop why I had to speed to get a photo for my blog.


I don’t think his car has been pulled over for a while.

2013 New Year’s Resolutions that I know I should make but I most probably will not be able to keep:

  1. I will not forget my anniversary. No, really. I have a new plan for this year. I have emailed all my close friends and have asked for help:  “My name is Lori and I am an Anniversary Date forgetter.”  And as a second check, I also put it in my Outlook calendar for the next 10 years.
  2. Lose weight. And exercise every day. Might as well just combine the two together and get it over with. And I am going to try really, really hard to be committed to zumba and quit using our in-home exercise equipment as clothing racks.
  3. I will stop taking the trash outside in the winter in bare feet. Must be that Michigan upbringing in me.
  4. Quit sleeping in until noon on weekends. Yeah, that is so never going to happen.
  5. Stop having periods and begin menopause. I am so tired of this monthly crap. So I have decided that 2013 is a good year to stop. My husband agrees with me, as long as it also stops PMS. Then again, be careful what you wish for in case menopause is worse, right?
  6. Can I even hope that one of my adult children will move out of the house?
  7. Get a speeding ticket. I am not being factious here; I am due and I might as well plan accordingly. Besides, I lost my invisible mini-van shield.
  8. Do not kill another one of my husband’s plants. Because I know this will happen. It does. Every year.
  9. Since I know I can’t decrease my whininess, at least try to maintain my level of whininess sharing. I already tried this by asking my husband if I could go to a motel after work one day instead of coming home to avoid everyone. He didn’t like the idea very much. I REALLY need to find my own special happy place where I can be alone. And no, I am not asking for suggestions from anyone.
  10. I will quit being afraid of our cat.

Okay so maybe it shouldn’t really count if I am already giving up even before the first month of the New Year is over, but don’t I at least get some acknowledgement for knowing what I SHOULD do, even if I don’t?