Soooo....I was driving from the lake house to Small Town house this morning (thinking about my orchestra concert tonight), with Husband as a passenger. It's about a 25-minute drive on nicely paved country roads--curves, a canopy of trees, and a river along the way. These are great scooter roads, but since I no longer have a scooter....
Husband and I were discussing a story (although I was humming my upcoming solo in my head) he had heard on NPR and debating its validity. Was it a story worthy of telling? Well, it doesn't matter, except that I was making my point, mainly with my gas-pedal foot, evidently, because I caused an on-coming trooper to switch on his roof lights, make a u-turn, and get in behind me. I glanced down at my speed-o-meter to discover that I was going 65 or so in a what? a 55 zone.
I drove on a few yards to the dam and pulled into the parking lot. The nicest gentleman approached the car, almost apologizing for pulling me over. Clearly, we were a nice, otherwise law abiding couple on our way to church. He explained that he was patroling the road particularly because of the holiday weekend, and since I have a clean record, he would let me go with just a warning. What a nice young man. (maybe I should invite him to my concert).
Although I wondered, if we weren't wearing our best Sunday clothes, and if Husband had been driving, would we have pulled away with just a warning and a smile? I got the impression if we looked like trash and had been out all night doing God knows what, then we might have pulled away with a ticket and a snarl. (have I mentioned the concert? Brahms? Rossini?)