Well, it's Tuesday, and I have a regular standing appointment down in Palo Alto every Tuesday... so I'm doing my regular drive in. I'm chatting comfortably with my boyfriend as I drive down the road, and notice a single motorcycle-cop on the side of the road, getting on his bike. There's no one stopped in front of him, and he's getting on the bike, as if he's already done is duty of ruining someone's day.... obvious indication that it's time to slow down the driving, cuz he's gonna be coming up on me any minute.
...drive along... talk to boyfriend... drive along...
...what's that? Flashy lights in the mirror? I don't THINK I'm at a rave... what the... oh FUCK. fuck fuck fuck.
Ticket for doing 82 in a 65. Damn. He said he was being nice by not ticketing me for not having current proof of insurance (I'm sure I have insurance... I just don't have it in the car). Nice my ass. 82?! That's nice? Fucker.
Oh well... lets see if traffic school is an option this time.