The Fuzz

I got pulled over today. What a heart-stopping experience that is. Jen (who was in the car with me) keeps attempting to comfort me by recalling that it was an absolutely classic pull over.

So we were on our way home from outlet shopping in Primm (and though it wasn’t a very successful shopping experience, it was still good to get out). I’d never been on that road before, but it was just another of those endless, straight, in-the-middle-of-the-desert roads (or so I thought). No Nevadans ever obey the speed limit on those roads, which is usually 75 anyways, so when I got stuck behind this guy who was going wicked slow I (after shouting “Dude, why don’t you go a little slower!”) pulled into the other lane to pass him. A Beach Boys song comes on and I crank it up really loud as I look in my rearview mirror to see if I’m far enough ahead of Mr. Turtle to get back in the slow lane. There’s a pickup truck behind me with lights on it. I point this out to Jen and comment that maybe the copper is the reason why that guy was going so slowly, but think to myself it’s probably just a volunteer ambulance guy, because police cars are usually cars and not pickup trucks.

Then his lights go on. MAN. Isn’t that just THE worst feeling in the world?!!?!? (Okay, well I can think of a few other feelings that might be worse, but getting pulled over makes me feel totally ill inside).

So I pull over, planning out what I’ll say in my head and silently sending prayers heavenward (though why anyone up there would even listen to a heathen like me, I’m not sure). The officer asks the standard questions: do you know what the speed limit is blah blah blah. He asks how long I’ve been here; I lie and say one week. He asks if I’m working; I lie and say “oh, for a couple of days now”. He tells us he’s on his way home for a two week vacation and then adds up the tickets I deserve for all the violations I’m commiting: 20mph over the speed limit=$300 fine plus two points on the brand new Nevada license that I need to get (in my spare time between work and night drivers classes that I’ll need to take), and driving without a valid state license in an unregistered, uninsured car would earn another $100 in fines at least. Oh Billy. That’s all I need right now.

All I have to say is: Thank God he had some serious R&R lined up.

He didn’t give me any tickets, just a warning to be a good Nevadan citizen and get all that car stuff taken care of and slow down. What a relief (not that I wasn’t tremoring violently as he walked back to his truck).

But I have to ask: what state has police officers who drive pickups?! I think that’s kind of shady right there. And B, he totally peeled out of the shoulder and zoomed at least 80mph down the road after thouroughly reprimanding me for going too fast.

But I’m not complaining.