***NOTICE: Grandma - Do not share this post with Grandpa. He will get mad and yell at me. And I hate when he yells at me. Thank you. That is all.***
So, as I mentioned, I made the long trip home last week.
|And the audience asks in chorus,|
"HOW LONG WAS IT?!?"
I had to fill up my 20 gallon tank 3 times
I ate nearly 20 points over my WW allotment
If I had started in the PM hours, I would have arrived the next day
It was such a long trip that I have to call the PA Stat Police tomorrow morning.
And here's why.
The trip, which started about 8:20 AM, was rather uneventful. I had an audio book to listen to on my kindle (in case you haven't, and you have a kindle, you should check out audible.com. Which reminds me that I need to cancel the trial offer I used to get the book My Life In France by Julia Child for free), I had fruits & veggies packed to munch on, my Garmin set and "calculating". I was ready to navigate.
And navigate I did, for about 10 1/2 hours. Pit stops were few, especially as Dukas refuses to relieve himself while on road trips (you needed that tidbit, didn't you?). Finally, I crossed the PA border, filled up my tank for the last time, and an hour later I was seeing signs for Pittsburgh; all was wonderful. I had finally gotten a hold of Handsome on the telephono, and informed him that the trip was going great, apart from a little sitting in traffic; there had been no mishaps and I had not gotten pulled over. Other than to lend dramatic foreshadowing when I would re-tell this story in the future, I'm not sure why I added that last bit to the conversation. As a rule, I don't get pulled over. Its only happened 2x in my nearly 9 years of driving, and if we shorten it to 8 years, its only happened once.
But add that piece of information I did. And then I hung up the phone and continued on my merry way, going slightly above the posted speed
limit suggestion of 65. OR SO I THOUGHT!
Next thing I know, blue lights flashin' in my rearview, and I was getting pulled over. WHAT? I was confused, I was scared, I was very tired of being in the car, and I was demoralized by the idea of being delayed while so close to home.
When Mr. Officer came up to my window and requested my license & registration, I began to look in my purse for my wallet. No wallet. "Hmmm..." I think to myself, "maybe it fell on the floor." Nope. I tell Mr. Officer that I am searching for my wallet and as soon as I find it, I will have my license for him.
Mr. Officer: Your license is in your wallet?
Me: Uh, yes... (thinking, DUH? Where do you keep yours, your shoe?)
Mr. Officer: Do you have any weapons on you?
Me: No... No I do not.
Mr. Officer: I'm going to need you to step out of the car.
Me: Yes Sir. (????!??!?!?!!?!?! going off in my head, but I obey)
Mr. Officer: Come around to the back of your vehicle.
Me: (again, ever obedient, I walk to the back of the car)
Mr. Officer: Do you see what is sitting on top of your spare wheel?
What was sitting on top of my spare wheel you ask? Or rather, you don't, since I'm completely transparent and bad at setting up surprising twists of plot. Thats right. My wallet. Right there. From where I'd left it an hour ago when I filled up on gasolina.
|This is a recreation, and not the actual event. |
Unfortunately names and places have not been changed, I really am that forgetful.
I don't know how my little leather wallet stayed put on top of that tire for over an hour. I could chalk it up to fluid dynamics of wind and the force of friction and static displacement, or the hand of God. Either way. It stayed and I was grateful.
Of course, Mr. Officer told me multiple times how I was a "very, very lucky girl", but clearly I was not lucky enough to escape being ticketed. Because apparently it wasn't a 65, it was a 55, and a little over an assumed 65 is too much over an actual 55 to get off with a warning.
So he gave me a ticket. In case you were wondering, I held it together and didn't cry until he got back in his car. Then I cried a lot. Then I recovered, and examined the $130 ticket he gave me.
And then I promptly lost the ticket.
What? Its not like I often misplace things... oh, wait. Forget I said anything.
And so now I have to call the PSP (thats their acronym, I know because I looked them up on google today) and request that they hook me up with a new ticket or allow me to pay over the phone, because in 3 more days, if I fail to either accept or contest said ticket, a warrant will be issued for my arrest and my license will be suspended.
And although having a bench warrant issued for me sounds equal parts terrifying and exciting, I'm going to have to pass on that one. Mostly due to the fact that I'm law abiding, but partially because I'm scared to go big. And if you can't go big, stay home. Thats what I always say. (and yes, I know, perhaps I should have stayed home in the first place)
Do you have any traveling stories to share?
Simultaneously fighting the laws of PA & Physics,