yesterday was a bit of a hectic day. i had a list of things to get done before we could depart the hudson valley to return to the 895 for connie’s big day.
we hit the road late. and i tried to compensate by driving a few miles faster per hour than i should have.
the taconic state parkway is a two lane, divided motorway. not quite a highway, but a beautiful drive and generally a good road. it’s a bit hectic on the motorbike because there are a lot of manhole covers and drainage grates which can be challenging on some of the tighter turns. but yesterday we were in the folksvagen.
anyway, i didn’t even notice that i was doing 75 in a 55 when we cleared that corner and saw new york state’s finest working the radar magic. yes, i left the trusty valentine one at home in the bavarian falcon.
i got the clear “i’m pointing at YOU!” and the “pull over” hand signals. so, i quickly let the car i was passing continue on (he ended up pulling over as well for fear of the state trooper in the silly hat), signalled and pulled over. i did what i always do. signal, stop the car, roll down all windows, turn car off, get every piece of paperwork ready. then answer everything like an apologetic military drone. honest, simple, ending with sir.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“Yes, sir. I think I was exceeding the speed limit, sir.”
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“Do you know the speed limit on the parkway?”
“Yes, sir. 55. (to which i really wanted to start singing some Sammy Hagar– but self control)”
“You were going 75. That’s twenty miles over the speed limit” (mind you, in new york, that’s 11 points on your license and an automatic revocation of driving rights)
So he then asked where we were going, if my license was clean, if he’s find anything if he ran it and where we live. That’s the kicker. I explained that we lived locally (we were 15 miles from home) and that i wasn’t a prick from brooklyn, which is the address on my license. I’ll be getting a replacement soon.
So, he let us off. It may have been the family wagon full of luggage and two dogs. The lovely lady next to me smiling politely. But i’d like to think it was my ass kising and his desire to not ruin our weekend heading home to send jon off into manhood.
remember- be polite. say sir. make eye contact. roll down the windows. be honest. play no games. admit fault. give him no where to “win” by rolling over onto your back and showing him your bare belly.
and we ended up having a great night at via roma.
i can’t wait for tonight. i love coming home…