I got a speeding ticket the other day. I hate when that happens.
When I say "I hate when that happens", I don't mean I hate the officer who gave me the ticket. People who get mad at police officers for catching them at speeding - or at commissionaires for parking tickets - are dorks. Hey - when they catch you fair and square, shut up and take your lumps.
What I hate is that I was stupid enough to be speeding ... and unlucky enough that there was a radar gun around to record it for posterity. Stupid and unlucky. Boy - talk about your Daily Double. The Ling Coat of Arms. Let's see - what would be on the crest? A broken mirror to symbolize "unlucky" and a picture of me drooling.
I was coming into an urban area from the country. I knew the speed limit dropped from ninety to fifty but I waited a bit to ease off on the gas. And just as I started to drop my speed, I saw the red and blue lights flashing. And I knew he had me dead to rights. I pulled over, the constable pulled in behind, and got out of his car.
It seemed to take forever for the officer to get to my vehicle. In the time he was sauntering between his door and mine, a couple of other cars passed us. One of them slowed down and I could see the driver sneer with contempt. I turned and looked straight ahead, feeling like some sort of axe murderer as I sat there for what seemed like an eternity.
It probably felt like longer because of what I had running through my head. Three things. One was a string of very very bad words. The next was "Boy, am I glad my wife isn't here to share this little experience with me". And finally, and most importantly, was a plan of action for when the officer finally reached the window.
And you've gotta have a plan of action. Because there's a chance - okay, a slim chance, I grant you that, but a chance nonetheless - that this might be the one time you get let off with a warning. But that's only going to happen if you handle it right.
For example, you increase your chances of getting a ticket dramatically if, when the officer knocks on your window, you roll it down and order a cheeseburger, fries and a root beer.
No, this is not a time for being a smart-alc. This is a time for kissing up. I make it a policy to have the window rolled down already, so when the officer goes to knock on it he pokes me in the eye by accident. If he draws blood, so much the better. You want him feeling beholden to you.
"Do you know how fast you were going?" This is always the first question. It's a trick, by the way. They have the right answer already. They just want to flush out the liars.
Your best answer is something like "Gosh, officer - I don't know. I was too busy watching for small children and pets to even glance at my speedometer." Who knows, you might get a break for being creative. Frankly, I wouldn't expect it. I mean, if this was your day, would you be sitting at the side of the road in the first place?
I took my lumps, took my ticket, and rolled off slowly into the sunset. I thought my day was completely ruined. But about twenty miles along the road, I came across the guy who slowed down to sneer at me. He had run into a speed trap of his own. I slowed down and waved. He turned away, mumbling. I felt so much better.
It isn't just misery that loves company. Stupidity does, too.
Nils Ling's book "Truths and Half Truths" is a collection of some of his most memorable and hilarious columns. To order your copy, send a cheque or money order for $25.00 (taxes, postage and handling included) to RR #9, 747 Brackley Point Road, Charlottetown, PE, C1E 1Z3
