I'll see you in court?

Trevor and I were on our way to College Station to see the Aggies BTHO Montana State. We were engrossed in conversation as we passed through Bremond, TX, and that's when I saw the police lights in my rearview mirror. Now, unlike Glenn, I don't have a big fear of cops. Why should I? I've been a rule follower my whole life (note to young whyjustinwhy readers: following rules won't get you girls). For instance, I waited until I was 21 to consume my first adult beverage. I waited until my freshman year of college to kiss a girl, and even then I felt somewhat criminal (which is ironic because two months later a cop nearly gave us tickets for kissing at a park after "closing" hours). And I rarely ever break the speed limit by more than a couple miles per hour. In fact, I'm the slowest driver I know, often to the point of annoying friends (eg- Josh becomes verbally abusive with me). Okay, so now that you know this about me, I can continue with the story.

I rolled down my window, and the police officer walked up. Before I could even get in a "howdy", the cop said...

Cop: Insurance and driver's license? (I gave it to him) You were driving forty in a thirty. Was this an emergency?

Me: No, sir. (Strange. I thought the speed limit sign said 40.)

Cop: Wait here. (walks to his car and comes back 7 minutes later, ticket in hand) Sign this.

Me: Excuse me, did you say the speed limit was 30 miles per hour?

Cop: Sir. As I've already explained to you, you were going forty in a thirty.

Ok, let's pause the story. This is where you should know something else about me. My temper has a tendency to surface whenever I sense some injustice has occurred (I recognize this to be a character flaw and am in the process of correcting it). In this case, all I was asking for was an explanation of what just happened, but this guy decided to be a dong about it.

Me: Listen. You pulled over the wrong guy. I'm the slowest, most conscientious driver in the world. I'll sign the paper, but you got the wrong guy. (Trevor later explained that the tone in my voice made him worried that I was about to grab the cop by the collar and sock him)

Cop: Have a nice day. (takes paper and begins walking back to his car)

Me: Yeah. I'll see you in court!

It felt great. I got in the last word and said it triumphantly. Later on, though, Trevor reminded me that I had no legs to stand on because I had been going forty in a thirty. He went on to say that if he had ever said "I'll see you in court!", he'd be embarrassed about it for the rest of the day. It was his way of telling me to own up to the situation and handle it like a man.

So, I'd like to give the first whyjustinwhy "thanks a million" to Trevor. The best friends are the ones who let you know where you're messing up, not the ones who cheer you on as you fall. But that's for another blog post...