To the very understanding police officer who probably should have given me a sobriety test

Friday, February 24, 2012

Dear Police Officer:

First of all, thank you for not arresting me.  In hindsight, i really seem to have given you as much reason as i possibly could have to not only give me a sobriety test, but to also consider me to be a danger to myself or others on the road.  There is an explanation of all of my behavior, i promise you, and this is the exact reason i am writing to you.

I promise you i was not lying when i said that i wasn't texting while driving.  I'm well aware that i am not even coordinated enough to jog, much less operate a vehicle while attempting to send a coherent message on my old-school phone.  I was attempting to force my ancient hunk of phone to silence itself so that i could calmly listen to the end of All Things Considered on NPR.  This is not always an easy task when you have a phone as old as mine.  Let me backtrack and give you some information on what i was doing today before you had to pull me over:

I recently realized that there is not much time let to me before i have to have my life in order so i can travel for an indefinite period of time through Latin America.  Today was not a busy afternoon at work by any standards.  This left quite a lot of time to have a mini panic attack, which always leads me to try to organize details into color-coordinated lists with time deadlines.  So my desk at work is covered in mini post-it notes of varying shades scattered in particular over my desk calendar on the deadlines i have self-imposed.  

But post-it notes cannot jump up of their own accord and come track me down to ensure i am sticking to this schedule.  My solution: to enter in a list of things i needed to do this weekend into my cell phone, and since i was most likely leaving on time today from work (as it was sooo slow) it would go off as i was pulling up to my house, around 530.  Good plan, right?

No.  Not really.  As it turns out, i ended up having a little talk with a co-worker before i left for the day, which carried past 5.  This put me on the road and driving when my cell phone started screaming at me to accomplish the tasks i had just recently set for myself.  Yes, you are right there are buttons on the side of the phone that should, in theory, silence this phone without much more than a little push.  But these small buttons on a (minimum, i really do not remember when i first purchased this thing) 5 year old phone do not work consistently, and this was one of those days it was not working.

So i would have to find another way to silence this thing.  Yes, I probably should have pulled over.  But i knew that i would soon be approaching the stop light on Munras & Fremont that is ALWAYS red.  Even though i would be turning right, there would be no way, i thought, that i wouldn't have to stop for a bit and wait to merge into traffic.  Good plan, right?

No.  Surprise!  The light was green.  I know, crazy right?  It is NEVER green.  Not once.  And i have driven this thing countless times.  So here i am, phone ringing incessantly and sitting in my hand on the steering wheel driving on Fremont.  It's loud, and i really just want to know what they are talking about on NPR.  So yes, i am a bit distracted.  Good news is that the light at the end of Fremont to get onto Highway 1 is coming up, and i ALWAYS have to sit through 2 reds before i can jump on that onramp (they should really have longer green lights to accommodate all the traffic on Fremont).

I imagine this is where you saw me.  I open up the flip portion of my phone to get to the calendar properly, because i did not simply want to delete the entire message of what this weekend had in store for me.  And then the stupid light changed.  So here i am, open phone that is screaming its little head off, and now i'm pulling up to nearly the front of the line to get onto the freeway.  I manage to get the phone silenced, and i place it between my knees instead of trying to maneuver it back into it's little pocket in my purse.  Perfect, i'm done.

Except, this is when i saw you sitting one car in front of me to the right.  And i panic.  Because it is evening-ish time and one of the bulbs in the front of my car are out.  And my lights are the type that are always on.  Many people, and i mean many, have repeatedly reminded me to replace those bulbs.  Often.  For a month.  And then reminded me that it is illegal to drive around without having it fixed.  But i am leaving the country in a month, and i have been known to say "it's only a little bit of time, and light bulbs are expensive.  Why replace it now when it's just going to be parked forever?"

So i panicked.  I was sure you were going to ticket me for my headlight, so i lurched forward to turn on my brights.  Maybe you hadn't noticed that the light was out, and it's not dark enough yet to make the brights really blinding for onlookers.  In my awkward haste to flip those bad boys on, my cell phone slipped from between my knees and onto the floor.  But maybe i was safe.  Maybe you hadn't seen my lights.  And then the light changed, and you pulled me over.

As you sauntered up to my open window, i was cursing myself for not having replaced that light.  You introduced yourself, and very politely asked me if i knew why you had pulled me over.

"Um... Why?"  Thinking i absolutely knew the reason.

"For texting while driving"

And then i bust up laughing.  I know that one is NEVER supposed to laugh at a serious cop.  I know this!  And yet, i was so surprised at the response i couldn't help myself.  I stopped abruptly and responded as seriously as i was able "Oh, I wasn't texting while driving.  I was turning off my alarm"

We then had the discussion about how operating a phone at all without hands free is not allowed while also operating a vehicle, which i had not realized, i thought it was only talking/texting, and you mentioned how it seemed that i have a flip phone and asked if you could see it.  So I agreed happily and went to reach for it under my chair.  This is when i noticed you staring not at my face but into my car somewhere (in hindsight, you were probably looking at the floor to see where i was reaching to make sure i wasn't going to shoot you or something) and i immediately assumed that you were looking at my console, where it clearly shows that my brights are on and i'm missing a headlight (yes there is a light that reminds me constantly to replace that light).

"You threw your cell phone on the floor?" (with heavy disbelief in my innocence of knowing i can't turn off my alarm while driving, or possibly that i wasn't texting at all)

"Oh no it fell."

"It fell?  What were you doing?"

"Turning on my lights... cause you know... it's getting dark, and i like to be careful and such.  See, this is what i was doing with my calendar."

Your doubt was written all over your face as you asked for my license and registration.  I had the ID handy and then started digging through my glove box, so i didn't seem the quite the idiot i usually do when i hand any officer the entire contents of that little compartment since i have no idea what you actually want.

"Are you still at River Street in Santa Cruz?"

"Oh, no i live down here now"

"What's your current address?"

"Oh, it's like 140 or 180 Erik or Aaron or some name in Marina.  But you can send mail to the Santa Cruz address, it all gets forwarded to me in Marina"

"You don't know where you live?"

"Um... i guess not.  I'm only there for like a month so i didn't memorize it.  I know how to get there, though.  Is this the registration?"

"Yes...  So you're a blonde?"

Now please note that i am well aware how awkward and halting my responses have been.  I am trying to conceal my burnt-out headlight from a police officer, and i'm an awkward person to begin with.  So your random question threw and, honestly, offended me.  Were you calling me slow?  "NO!!  I'm a brunette!  Doesn't it say that on there?  I ALWAYS put that i have brown hair.  Here, see i'll show you my other ID, it says my hair's brown."

And then i handed you my Wyoming driver's license.  No, i wasn't thinking that it's illegal (but i did know that) to have two driver's licenses.  I was trying to prove that i wasn't a blonde.

"You have two driver's licenses?"

"See, brown hair."  Because even in the picture on this ID my hair is brown.

"M'am.  Will you please take off you sunglasses?"

"Oh, right.  Of course."  And as you walked away and i listened to NPR (which i had not taken the time to turn down, so it was blaring) i began to think this entire situation over a little bit.  Who blasts NPR in their car?  I realized that being in a rush to turn on my headlights (and in particular my brights) while my sunglasses were still on might have come off as ridiculous.  And i'm a wimp when it comes to being outside without the sunglasses, so i could only squint up at you.  I laughed at you about my "texting" (out of relief and the sheer idea that i, of all uncoordinated people, would even try it).  My phone had been on the floor, and i jerked down to grab it like a psycho.  I didn't know where i live.  I couldn't remember that the photo on my CA ID has blonde hair, and i happen to have a second driver's license.  Wow.

I  was surprised you hadn't made me get out of the car.  I was going to have to be really normal when you came back up here.

"M'am i've written you a citation for texting while driving"

"Oh, i wasn't texting.  I was... Oh right, sorry carry on please."

"This isn't an omission of guilt, but it's a citation for texting while driving.  Please sign on the line.  The paperwork will come in a few weeks."  

"Oh, a few weeks?  That's not....  Ok!"

"Do you have any questions?"

"Um... no?"  I totally did, but I didn't know if that was normal.  "Should i?"

"Really?"

"No.  No i don't have any questions."  I was sure that i wasn't supposed to have questions.  And there was a handy phone number on my yellow paper since i did.  I would ask them if we could expedite this process since i'm leaving.  But i didn't want to add any stuff to the already long list of reasons why i seem like a dangerous person (like i'm fleeing the country with no forwarding address) and giving you any more reason to arrest me.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

"Thank you for your time."  And then you gave me the strangest look.  "Well, i'm not going to thank you for the ticket."

You didn't just drive away immediately.  You sat there in your car while i put everything away and watched me.  This was the first time that had ever happened to me when pulled over, and i was nervous.  Were you waiting to pull me over again for the headlight and possible intoxicated driving?  I tried to seem as normal as possible as i neurotically put everything back (i hate to lose things in my purse) where it belongs.

I promise you, i wasn't texting.  And i'm not as crazy as i may have seemed.  But thank you for not arresting me.  And for giving me both my IDs back.  And for either not noticing my headlight, or choosing to ignore it for my sake.

Hopefully at least this will make a decent "this one time, i pulled over a crazy person and let her go" story.

alison

How Can Anyone Truly HATE Valentine's Day? (yes, sister, this one is for you)

Today is Valentine's Day!  Yes, I am one of those people who loves any holiday for no particular reason other than it's a fantastic reason to celebrate something.  And who doesn't like when an large portion of the population (ok, not so large on this particular day) will ban together and all wear similar colors, eat sweets in interesting shapes, have a particular meal, call their friends/family, drink alcoholic beverages (often with unusual decoration), and/or spend the day at the beach (this seems to be the way to celebrate any holiday in California, as far as I can tell).


This day could be like a literal pinko revolution every year if we let it!  Can you imagine, masses of people in varying shades of red and pink all moving about their day eating heart-shaped items (which, now that I write this, seems a bit barbaric), drinking pink martinis, and sharing little signs of affection with one another (in my simple mind, this extends to holding hands, friendly hugs, and little pecks on the cheek; keep your dirty business like making out, sharing the same seat, and rubbing against one another to dimly-lit high school dances, please)?


It's not.  We all know it.  For all the pink, squishy promise Valentine's Day offers every year we fall short.


I understand that there are people out there who hate Valentine's Day, and I know this because I am related to one (please mind that this relative is also someone who makes gagging sounds during the end of romantic comedies, even in public (luf you Gissy!)).  I even understand the dislike of how commercial this holiday in particular has gotten, that it's annoying to feel like you absolutely need to get your significant other a gift (and the accompanying pressure to make sure it's something that goes above and beyond the typical commercial-ness of this holiday), or that everywhere you go people are loosing their minds buying chocolates in stores, making out on street corners, and generally making the rest of us non-attached fools aware of how lonely being single really is.


I don't blame these people for the failings of Valentine's Day (ok, maybe I do... just a little).  But really?  How can one dislike making an effort to be even a little romantic once a year?  Because you know what, you're right: you could celebrate your significant other on another day if you wanted... you really could.  But you don't.  Nope, in fact I'm betting that you've become so comfortable you sometimes (possibly often?) forget to even think of them as a romantic-type relationship.  You know what would help you remember?  A holiday once a year where a large portion of the population dresses in pink & red and puts pressure on each other to appreciate relationships.  Wait...


For those of you in my boat (you know the one... where we're padding down an angry river alone in a little canoe with no sign of anyone willing to jump in and pick up the extra paddle anytime soon), you're right, it hurts my heart a little each time I see people so excessively happy with one another that they can't stop smiling.  As a friend tells me, it's "Singles Awareness Day", or SAD for short (she's very clever, this one).  But here's the thing, I'm going to go out an get a drink with this friend...  we're going to have a good time, and we're going to wear pink.


Because I still have hope for a mass of squishy pink people...