ten minutes later, after few words spoken...the usual, "did you know i pulled you over for speeding?" ---i nodded, giving consent and a "i'm sorry" look on my face. the cop then flashes his light in the backseat where a huge, black, Hefty-style bag sat stuffed full. "what's in the bag," he asked me. I looked and said it was my blanket, pillow and fan. looking back, i should've said something else. perhaps something like, "oh that's my sleeping bag and three heads--one body." maybe that would've made the $336 price of the ticket go down smoother or settle a bit easier. at least then, i would've had a good laugh out of it!
but alas, i said nothing of the sort and was polite and apologetic as could be. i regretted it at first, but then i realized how it was totally my fault. i kept asking and kicking up in the air how mad i was that this cop caught "me" when so many other blood-thirsty Wisconsin-highway speeders were loose and on the prowl at 1:00 in the morning. and every time i thought this (and still am thinking of it) i slowly correct my thoughts and remind me of me and what me did to deserve this paycheck-stealing fine. when i arrived back home this evening after a week of thinking long and hard about the whole thing, i found a check from the hospital waiting for me. sadly, it was about $75 short of the fine i now owe and then, the urge and feeling come and i get frustrated again. but thankfully i keep reminding myself that it is only money, that it was my fault to begin with and that i wasn't merely a sad victim torn in the middle of God's divine intervention at work. i was just a 22 year old speeding, thinking he was the only person in the world and that he was at the center of the universe--untouched, unphased by anyone and anything around him who got caught. caught for the first time speeding. no. i'm sure that was the thousandth time or so. but why does it make me so mad that this was the one to get me?