Very early yesterday morning I got all dressed up to meet my friend in town and drive to Wichita for a luncheon and fashion show at a Country Club. Woo Hooo! A girly day. Happy Happy!
I drove out of the ranch about 7:30 am. It takes 25 minutes to get to town. I was all dressed up, county music blaring. I’ve grown to enjoy driving to town instead of it being a big chore. A little music or an audio book. Never any traffic at all. There is almost nothing in between the ranch and town. A few cattle, lots of corn and wheat, maybe 3 houses. Hardly ever meet another car.
Except for today…..
What the…??? Where did you come from? Seriously? OK, no problem. County Sheriff car. Probably just wants to say hi. The Sheriff is our neighbor. It’s not the sheriff, It’s a new young new guy.
Now I’m a little worried. He wants to know if I know I am speeding? 68 in a 55.
No, I do not know that.
I little perspective here:
25 years ago I would have shown a little leg and some cleavage and fake cried.
(That worked countless times. So sorry Gloria Steinham)
Today that would be pathetic in so many ways.
Anyway, I couldn’t cry because I was so mad and my Evil Twin (ET) was starting to surface.
Mercifully, I choked her down and didn’t say a word as this young man wrote me a ticket and told me to slow down and drive safe. How condescending of him.
ET wanted to say: “Have you even started shaving yet? See these boots I’m wearing? They are older than you. You are so skinny and girly looking you probably can’t even get a date in this town. Do you know who I am? Do you know that your boss is our neighbor? (probably had a fight with him this morning) If that’s the case then…Yes your boss is a jerk, I hate him too. And you look just like your dad, Barney Fife!!”
Some more perspective:
I have a lead foot. In 2009 I received a letter from the State of Kansas stating that if I get another speeding ticket, they would feel compelled to borrow my drivers license for six months. Since then I have been intermittently careful with my driving. Only receiving 3 warnings, no tickets. Good for me.
This is different. There is never anyone out here. And besides, there should be some kind of “Kings X” for your home turf. And seriously, I was wearing a dress…. And make-up…..And I wasn’t some scruffy criminal type coming home from a kegger in the country….. And, I had washed my car!
This is the road to town. Speed limit 55? No traffic…ever. No signs. It’s a “dangerously straight” and paved road. That’s it. That is my defense. I will throw myself in front of the judge and plead ignorance of the speed limit because….who knew? There are no signs anywhere. I’ll say I thought it was 65 like everywhere else. And 68 is not really speeding, it’s speeding-ish. Perfect strategy to save my driving privileges.
On the return trip home I start obsessing over my brilliant strategy. Rehearsing my “schpeel” in front of the judge. One more time “There are no signs, how was I supposed to know the speed limit was 55 instead of 65?” I could almost force a tear. “Can I please keep my drivers license….sir?”
No speed limit signs at all for the 25 minute drive home. I’m a genius!
I have it documented it with my camera.
I turn into the ranch. What the…….?
Seriously? Wait a minute…. I never noticed that before today. I call T.H. and ask him if they just put that sign up today. He said no it’s been there for years. I ask him if he would please get the chain saw and cut it down. He said no, why?
Love, Cowgirl Red aka Terah
P.S. If I loose my driving privileges it will be like 1880 around here.
“Hey Pa, I’m takin’ the horses to town for groceries. See ya in a week.”
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