“Do you know how fast you were going?” They were the first words out of this cop’s mouth when he approached my car window. There was no “hello.” No “how’s it going today.” Just a gruff demand to make sure I knew what a despicable law-breaker I was.
It was Easter afternoon. My friend Felicity and I had decided last-second to hit the outlet malls in Park City before heading to Sunday dinner. I was in a really good mood.
“85,” I said honestly. I had looked at my speedometer when I first noticed the cop. “Sorry, I just wasn’t paying attention.”
“Actually, 86,” he snapped. “License, registration, and proof of insurance.”
I handed him what he wanted and he disappeared behind us for the time being. Felicity and I utilized that time to take the awesome picture you see above. I’m a blogger. It’s what I do. Eventually he returned to my window.
“You were going 91, but I only wrote you up for 90. It’ll make a big difference in the cost of the ticket.”
“You said I was going 86,” I replied in a tone of self-defense, wondering why his story had suddenly changed.
He tensed even further. “I clocked you at 91 coming down the hill. You didn’t even notice me, you were too busy looking at her.”
“Can I see the radar please?”
He stiffened and snapped. “Look, if you wanna keep arguing, I’ll take it back to the car and write you up for the whole thing right now. I’ve never shown anybody the radar and I don’t have to do that.”
Now I was getting agitated. “Sir, when you walked up to my window, you said I was going 86. Then when you came back you said I was going 91. There’s a flaw in there somewhere.”
He then changed his story to say he clocked me at 91 coming down the hill but I was going 86 when he pulled me over.
“Look,” I said, “I’m not denying that I was speeding. I’m not a speeder as you’ll see by my flawless record, but every once in a while I don’t pay close enough attention and I get going too fast coming over a hill. Give me the ticket, but give it for the speed we both know I was going. I really don’t want to have to go into court and have to have you come into court. Can we just fix the ticket and be on our way?”
“Go ahead and fight it in court,” he taunted, and without another word he stormed back to his car.
I felt bad for the guy. He obviously was having a really bad day and needed to take it out on someone. I just wish it wasn’t me.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing
PS. Anybody else ever have a cop change stories on them? What’s your favorite “getting pulled over” story?