Rollers (partial re-post)

One speeding ticket on State road 2 in Minnesota, on the way home from college in 1987.

One speeding ticket on State road 1 in Minnesota, on the way home from college in 198...8?

Stopped for a headlight out on State road 52 in Minnesota, just after stopping to buy beer, in 1990. Got a warning, and he told me to enjoy my beer once I drove the final 2 blocks to my destination. It was a 6-pack of Leinenkugel's.

In all of my trips from Texas to Minnesota, I have NEVER been stopped. I've nearly been killed by other drivers, though--damn that US 81 through Nebraska!

I talked my way out of one ticket in Euless, TX in 1996. I even had empty beer bottles in the back seat in plain view, but the guy obviously thought my husband (then fiance) had drunk them and that's why I was driving home instead of him. The whole experience pissed off my husband, because "women can always talk their way out of tickets." I cited the first two examples I gave here, and told him to shut up.

One ticket on I35 on the way back from seeing ElllyHnowP in Austin, TX, just after it splits East and West and goes down to 60MPH. The cop scared the crap out of me because he came up on the passenger side while I was yelling at the kids about juice. He laughed at me, but not in a mean way. He was nice but gave me the ticket anyway.

One ticket in Roseau, MN on the way to my grandfather's funeral. The cop was a woman, and a total BITCH. Yes, I was speeding on the way out of town--the "55MPH" sign was about 10 feet in front of where I pulled my car over. I was driving my mom's car, with the kids in borrowed baby seats. First, the woman bitched about my speeding. Okay, whatever. THEN she kept asking whose car it was? My parents'. WHERE was I from? Texas, like it says on my driver's license. Was I from Minnesota? Yes, I grew up here. But WHY did I have a Texas license? Because that's where I LIVE, [BITCH]! They WHY was I driving someone else's car? I flew here. From WHERE? Texas. WHOSE car is this? My PARENTS, like I said before.

I told her, more than once, that I was going to a funeral that is over 100 miles from any commercial airport. You can only get there by driving. And it's obvious that I was related to my parents, since my middle name used to be my last name, and last name on the car insurance was the middle name on my license.

Then she bitched that the insurance was expiring in three days. She didn't ask for a renewal card, but if she had, I had it.

Then she bitched about how the car seats were not adequate for the size of the children (they were borrowed). But she "gave me a break" on that. Then she drove off.

I sat there and cried for about 15 minutes. I didn't expect any forbearance because I was going to a funeral, but geez! A little intelligence on her part might have been helpful.

Apparently, the woman had a huge reputation. If I showed up in court to fight the ticket, it would have been automatically dismissed, I was told, because this cop was such a pain in the ass for the local judge. My dad told me a few stories about her, and actually called her a bitch. It's the ONLY time I've ever heard the man utter the word.

But the next time I got stopped in Minnesota made up for the last time. Here's how that went (according to what I wrote in my blog.) (Oh, I was just arriving in my hometown for Christmas in 2006):

"Where ya headed to?"

"Well, I'm here now."

"Just arrived? Just now?"

"Just now. I grew up here."

"Do you have any idea why I stopped you?"

"Did I not slow down fast enough when the speed limit changed coming into town?"

"No, you did that fine, but I clocked you back there on the highway anywhere between 55 and 70. I didn't stop you until we got here because there's no shoulder back there and I didn't want to cause an accident."

"Oh. Well, I was mostly looking for deer."

"I'm just going to write you a warning. It's not a ticket or anything."

I look at the warning. Deputy Porter had very clearly written my middle name, which was my last name before I married The Jesus of Cheese, proving to his superiors that I really did grow up there. He started to write my last name as "Friendly" and corrected it, then didn't bother to write down my address. My license plate, according to him, was from the state of "YV" and only had five numbers. He didn't record anything about my driver's license, though if he'd asked, I could have also given him my now-surrendered Minnesota number: H-636-368-585-151.

Why I can remember that when I can't remember anyone's phone number, I have no idea.

So, in review, this is how you get out of a speeding ticket in Warren, Minnesota:

1) Be from Warren. No one FROM Warren ever gets a ticket IN Warren, unless they're below the age of 21.

2) Confess to a crime you have not committed. I knew damn well I did my speed reduction correctly.

3) Show knowledge of local concerns. I had hit a deer four years ago in the exact spot on the road when I first noticed the cop behind me (um, 6 miles before he stopped me ;-)).

It was nice of him to not give me a speeding ticket. And to not give me a ticket because I had my son in the front seat (airbag violation) without his shoulder harness on, and also my rear view was mostly blocked.

I'm also glad he didn't find the illegal immigrants we had hidden under the Christmas presents.