wandering sails

brake abuse.

i'm a stopper. i begin to slow down well before each stop sign i see and i ensure that my car is fully stopped before proceeding onwards. i'm a stopper. my driving record would beg to differ, but it's all a misunderstanding. my record contains no speeding tickets, no accidents (that time i got hit by the semi didn't get reported...), no reckless driving. failure to stop at a stop sign, however? ironic, really, that i honestly stop at all i see, but i speed like a race horse most days. there are two incidents on my record, the third i fought and had cleared.

the fall after i graduated from high school, i decided to see what all the fuss was about. i had ridden in cars with my brothers and their friends when, approaching a certain intersection, they would shut off their lights and, satisfied that there were no cars coming, proceed through the intersection without stopping at the sign. it was late on a wednesday night. i was sick. i had just downed some nyquil and was preparing for bed when my mother asked me to run some papers over to someone's house. i begrudgingly went and it was on this ill-fated trip that i shut my lights off, checked for oncoming traffic and took the intersection going about 70. on the other side, i flipped the lights back on and shrugged my shoulders. no big deal. as i cruised along down the country road, i suddenly was assaulted by the flashing lights of a police car. as i waited to be brought in, searched and left to die in a cold, dark corner of the county prison, i kicked myself for being so stupid. why do i speed? the officer let me know that they didn't care much about the speeding, but were quite curious as to why i turned my lights off to go through the intersection. after being accused of being drunk (of course i would be, it being a wednesday night and all), they made me walk the line, shined that stupid light in my eyes a few too many times and gave me a ticket. i feigned no innocence. i made no excuses. when asked why i didn't stop, i let them know that this time, i simply had not wanted to.

the day i mailed in the payment for the first ticket i had ever received, i was accused of running a stop sign on a bus. this, my friends, was the one that i contested. i was jerked around the system, but i prevailed and the ticket was removed. and though i didn't have a probation officer, i can say that once, i was on probation.

years would go by before i would have another run-in, but it came one cold november afternoon during my search for any remaining cities 97 samplers. in an area i didn't know, i pulled into a parking spot at target and got out, only to be greeted by an officer who had parked his car behind mine. to prevent a mad escape, i'm certain, since i look the type to irrationally be convinced that this 86 cutlass of my brothers could outrun and outsmart the squad car. to my utter surprise, i had run a stop sign. i had to ask the officer where the alleged incident took place. as he pointed out the crime scene, i wondered to myself why i hadn't seen it. only later, while reconstructing the crime in my mind, did i remember that the sign was blocked by a rather large truck. i remembered the car coming from the other direction, waiting to turn left. i sped up so as not to make him wait longer. oh, silly me. of course, by now, it looks like i have a problem with stopping at signs. like i care not a whim whether i endanger my own life and the lives of other travellers. and of course there is no record that states that i have stopped at every single other stop sign in the last seven years. so i took the ticket and made my way into the store to find that the cd was sold out.

what, you may be asking, made me write of these incriminations of my character today? i have noticed one particular stop sign that i have trouble stopping at on my morning commute. for some reason, i don't slow down like i normally do and then i have to push really hard on my brakes to stop before i am halfway across the intersection (i usually only make it about a quarter of the way into the road). perhaps the stop sign is smaller than regulation, so i think it's farther away. perhaps, it's a morning thing. perhaps it's the hill i have to drive up before the stop sign. i don't know. but i seem to be unable to stop properly at it. and as i realized that this morning, i prayed that i would never meet a patrol car there. may the eyes of the law never see my unintentional pushing the limits of it. oh, Lord, have mercy.

posted by julie @ 9:22 AM