I Fought the Law

I'm on my way to work this morning at the crack of dawn, talking to JLS, cruising down my street before I turn onto the main street that will carry me to the freeway, when suddenly I come across a intersection and my Corolla fails to completely clear it. I glance to the side, and notice a person in their car, now giving me an evil eye. The light is red so I can't move anywhere, so I pretend not to notice. And then I saw the police. And then the light turned green. The lights flashed, I pull over and the female officer comes to my window.

"Drivers License, Registration and proof of insurance please," she says.

Yeah. I open my glove compartment, grab my papers hand it to her and then look in my messenger bag that now seems to be the messiest bag ever. Lip gloss, loose change, water bottles... surprised I didn't have a small child in there, too. I can't find my driver's license.

"You don't have a driver's license, Ma'am?"

Shit. I'm Ma'am now. The police woman did look to be about 34,  so I guess I was older, but still. But who was I to complain. Where was my driver's license?

And then I remembered. My driver's license was in my other purse I had brought to the wedding with me. My license was only a 1/4 of a mile away. I wanted to ask her if she could escort me to my home, I would gladly show her I was licensed when she asked me for my date of birth and address, and went back to her car with the flashing lights.

I imagined all my neighbors driving by me on the side of the road. I always thought people who were pulled over were dealing or escaped convicts, and I suddenly felt the urge to proclaim my innocence to motorist who were passing by.

"Have you found your license yet?" she asked again.

It was then that I noticed that Janelle was still on the phone, and I touched my phone and clicked on the red receiver button, hanging up on her. I'd have to call her back. She'd understand.

"I think what we're doing is more important than your phone right now, don't you think?" she asked with much attitude.

"I was just hanging up my girlfriend she was still on the phone," I explained, as tears started to spring to my eyes. I wasn't being disrespectful, I just didn't want my girlfriend to hear me being carted off to jail for blocking an intersection. We've been getting closer, but I was sure this criminal activity wouldn't be good for our relationship.

I could see her start to soften. She sighed, walked back to her car, then returned to my car in a few short moments later, holding out a ticket for me to sign. "You'll have until August fifteenth," she explained, "and I'm giving you a warning on your license. I'm sorry I have to give you a ticket, it's just that we've been getting a lot of complaints about that intersection..."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "I understand." I didn't. 

"Drive Safe, Ms. Anderson. Have a good rest of the day."

I guess I'll never know if it was my mentioning Janelle in the moment of panic that softened up the officer or not. I did have that equality symbol on my bumper, too. All I know is that I probably have a $200 ticket to pay and that now I'm desperately afraid of intersections.

And female police officers.