I'm not one of those people that drives fast in an agressive way, I just love the way my car feels as it's floating over the road, when I reach a certain speed. I love to drive, and when possible I will drive at
Last summer I drove through the french countryside and I think the kids only remember seeing stripes of green and lavender as we speeded over the perfectly maintained toll roads. At times joined by another fellow speedster each taking turns leading the way, only stopping for fuel or quick sanitary breaks.
Twice last week, a friend of mine had to give me a call, asking me if I had been the blue blurr racing past. And both times I had to admit that I had been in a hurry and was driving slightly over the limit.
Many friends predicted that one day...I would get caught....and yet..I felt invincible.
Last Saturday, the kids and I were on our way to visit my parents and the roads were empty and calm. Plenty of space to enjoy pressing down the accelerator and of course I did just that. Without going into great detail suffice it to say, it was plenty fast.
Then a little white figure on a motorbike appeared in the distance and I let go of the gaspedal and even stepped on my breaks a bit, hoping (against better judgement ) that I would not be noticed. I drove right past the police officer and for a second thought he may not follow, but he did, and of course signed me to follow him to the next stop. So I did.
At arrival, I was greated by an entire army of police men (none of which seemed nice enough, as by now I'm sure you all know I screen for possible dates in whatever situation ...;-)).
The motorbike officer, a bearded fellow who looked a lot like a young version of Santa Claus, asked me for my drivers license and registration. I handed everything over and sheepishly asked him if maybe he could let me off with a warning this time. He could hardly believe what I had just asked of him and kindly but strictly reminded me that I had been caught on camera, and that I had exceeded the limit by so much that I had to hand in my license per direct.
I was overcome by a sense of impossibility, yet I did not feel the need to rebel or throw a tantrum about it. I let it go, and accepted my fate.
Whilst I sat there filling in papers, answering questions and blowing into a weird box to test for alcohol ( which by the way would have been ridiculous to have in my blood at 11.30am !) I realised I was not as invincible as I had thought. My drivers license was confiscated and I will presumably have to make due without it for the next 15 days.
A friend and his wife were kind enough to come to the rescue and drive me, the car and the kids home. I felt defeated, numbed and especially silly for having thought I could avoid ever getting caught.
Now, feeling amputated in a way, I find myself dependant on others and their kindness to drive this caught out speed offender around.
Have I learnt my lesson? I cannot yet say...as I may be harbouring a Speedy Gonzales dna perpetrator within me. Question is...does he speak fine language ?! Or does he too believe he is invincible ?!
To speed or not to speed, that