11:38pm and Racquel and I are zipping past downtown. We were trying to make the midnight showing of Saw IV and not doing well.
We get on the 195 approaching Club Space when my engine stops on the highway. I curse, take the US-1 exit and coast down the ramp onto a side street.
It is 11:41 now.
A homeless person is across the street. The neon sign of GoldRush strip club is ahead of us. Racquel is laughing, I’m still cursing. I turn off the car, sigh, and say the obvious – “this is some bullshit.”
I then try to restart the car. It starts. We decide to see the movie. Why not? 11:43 now.
We are back on 195 and going past P. Diddy and Shaq’s darkened mansions when I mutter, “shit.”
“What?” Racquel said, “the car doesn’t look like it’s dying.”
“No it’s not. But I’m being pulled over,” I said, eying the blue and red flashes in my mirrors.
I pull over. It’s 11:46. The he-woman cop asks for my license and registration and then disappears.
“What the heck could she pull me over for?” I wondered aloud.
He-woman returns and shoves a ticket across Racquel towards me, “Here’s your ticket. Can you sign for it here?”
“Uh, what am I getting a ticket for?”
“Speeding.”
“Speeding?”
“Speeding.”
“What’s the speed limit?” I asked. I had been going 45mph. She wasn’t really giving me a ticket for going 45 in a 40 was she?
“The speed limit is 50 sir.”
“…and how fast are you saying I was going?”
“You were going 65. We had to speed up to 70 just to catch up with you. We were on Palm island. You were going so fast you didn’t even see the cop car.”
“No,” I thought, “It’s Thursday night and the highway is busy, and that’s why I didn’t see your ass.”
I signed for the ticket. It was 12:06am, and some bullshit.
We got to the theater at 12:13. We were in the seats by 12:16. A full 2 minutes late.
