Speeding

So did I mention that today I talked my way out of a speeding ticket?  I did!  Yes, me, who has narry an acting bone in my body. But I was not about to let that Saudi jerk give me a ticket.  No way!

I was on my way home from choir practice.  It was so nice.  I was all alone in the car, and it was peaceful and quiet.  And it was raining!  It had started to rain just as we were leaving the building.  How exciting!  One of my friends had needed a ride home, so we had hopped in Clyde and I had dropped her off at her house, about halfway between choir practice and my house.

Because I was off my usual route, I took the back way home, on a perimeter road that hardly has any traffic on it.  It was really dark, and raining, and as I said, I was really enjoying the ride.  I got to the end of that road and turned right onto the next road.  I had noticed some headlights facing me way off in the distance right before I turned, but I did not pay it much mind since I was not going that way.

About halfway down the second road, I saw blue lights in my rear view mirror.  "No way," I thought.  "It must be a funny reflection from the raindrops on the back windshield."  But then the car flicked its headlights at me.  Ugh.  Am I really being pulled over?  By security?  Really? 

I pulled over and stopped.  I have heard that if you get pulled over here, you are supposed to get out and go to the security guy, rather than waiting for him to come to you - it's a sign of innocence (vs. guilt).  But it was raining, and I was not comfortable confronting a Saudi man in the dark and rain, so I rolled down the window and stayed put.  He got out and came over to my window and said, very slowly and profoundly, "Speeding."  Then he smiled.  His smile said "I gotcha." 

What??  Well, OK.  I probably WAS speeding, as I do it all the time.  I am a chronic speeder - I go too fast here and in the States.  Not a lot too fast, but yes, more than the speed limit.  For me, the speed limit is the minimum speed you should go.  My last ticket was for 52 in a 35.  (But that was in 1994!!)  (Apparently I do not go quite fast enough to warrant being pulled over a lot.) 

But smiling?  Smug in his dominance over me?  Nuh-uh.  I am GOING to get away with this, I decided.  I am going to use what I know about this culture to change the situation in my favor.  "I am smarter than you," I thought.  "I can beat this guy at his own game."

Let me add that traffic violations here are a big deal.  You do not have to pay a fee directly, but it goes in your husband's performance report and will negatively affect his raise, when the time comes.  So let's say you were going to get a 3% raise, but the traffic ticket bumped you down to 2%; one ticket can potentially cost thousands at first, and eventually tens of thousands, because the lost percent would have compounded, if you stay a long time.  So it's no fun to go home and tell your husband that all his hard work was for naught because honey, I just demolished your raise with a dumb speeding ticket.

"Speeding?!" I cried.  "But I was only going... ["Uhhh, what do I think is the speed limit on this road??" I thought quickly to myself.] ...65!"  (Totally guessing.) (We are in clicks now - 65 kph = 40 mph). 

"Ah, but this road is 50," he says. 

He had caught me in a tiny stretch of 50 in the middle of a very long road of 65.  Ohhhh.  It's a speed trap. Thanks, Company.  A tiny American community in the desert, complete with speed traps. 

"No!  This road [indicating the one we are now on] is 65.  I just saw the sign."  That part was true. 

"It is 65 here and 65 there, but it is 50 in the middle.  I watched you from afar.  You went 64, and then you slowed down to 62."

Jeez.  Come on!  Going 64 is hardly unreasonable!  Come on dude!  I am getting angry now!  You are just a security guard!

Then, in a flash of inspiration, I spontaneously burst into tears.  How I did this, I am still not sure.  It had no real emotion behind it.  Where did it come from?  But it must have sounded real.  As I wailed, I thought to myself, "Wow, this is weird."

"Oh please don't give me a ticket!" I sobbed.  "I didn't KNOW!  I won't do it again, I promise!  Now that I KNOW, I won't do it again, please, please don't give me a ticket!"

"It is a violation," he said, sternly.

"But I thought it was 65!"  I wailed.  "I am so sorry.  I won't do it again.  PLEASE PLEASE don't give me a ticket!"

By now I am thinking, "If this doesn't work, I'm going to have to pull out the 'husband' card:  my husband will be so angry at me, my husband will not like this, my husband will punish me so you don't have to, etc." 

I am also thinking, "Wow, I did not know I could be so insincere." 


But no husband card needed!  He paused and said with a wag of his finger, "Don't do it again."  And he gave me my ID back and walked away. 

WOW!  It worked!  The second he was out of sight, I was back to normal and I pulled away.  HOORAY!!  No ticket-writing for you today, dude.  I totally worked that.  Yay for me!

When I came home and told Mike, he laughed.  Then he stopped laughing and told me to stop speeding.

But now that I know I am capable of talking my way out of it, nah, I'm not going to worry about it.  Go me!