The husband and I were coming back from dinner when I mentioned how the cops circled that street like buzzards on roadkill. He didn't heed my warning and a few moments later the old blue and red lights flashed in the rearview.
This is the second time I've been in the car with Bryan when he's been pulled over in our neighborhood. It's also the second time I've seen him get a warning - and I'm freaking out. The last time I got a warning, I was sixteen.
I know what you're thinking - you think I'm all bitchy when the cop comes up, but it's not so! As a matter of fact, the last time I got a ticket near my house the officer actually thanked me for being so cooperative. I was driving home from the doctor's office, and I'm pretty sure I looked pitiful, too. But did the nice officer take pity and give me a warning? NO! He was all, "here's your ticket, pitiful lady, thanks for being so cool."
I've come to a sad realization - I must not be a hot girl. I mean, I don't think I'm bad looking, but when your husband gets warnings all the time and you get both fined and thanked for your cooperation it plays with your head a little. I mean, where's my mojo?
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