Scumbag Brain

After an amazing set at last night's metal show, I was exhausted and ready to go home.  It was late and I had a long drive ahead of me.  I've found that driving over the speed limit can reduce your total drive time; often by an impressive amount.   (Try it, it's true!!!)

However, if you leave a bar around midnight, it's never a good idea to drive fast.  Not only are the cops out and watching for people speeding away from bars, but other drivers (who had business at the bar not related to playing thrash metal) are also leaving the pub.  If there was ever a time for driving the speed limit in a defensive manner, this is it.

  Sometimes the best defense is a good offense.

So I obey the rules of the road.  For a solid forty minutes, I drive 60 on the interstate and 30 in town.  I even drop down to 20 in the school zone.  I know there aren't any kids present, but I'm not taking any chances.  I've had a negative view of police ever since high school.

I grew up in a town with a graduating class of fifty some students.  There was nothing for us to do in our small town which meant there was usually plenty for the cops to do.  Everybody knew everybody--cops included.  They would find any excuse to pull you over.  I was pulled over at 2 in the morning once for driving too close to the white line.  I'm not sure that's even a thing, I mean, c'mon man, like I should drive closer to the yellow line so I'm closer to oncoming traffic.  You basically told me I was driving too safe.  Nothing new though, most people driving at 2 in the morning on a weekend probably should be pulled over.

My problem with this is that the guy knew I just got off of work.  He came through the drive-thru earlier that night and I gave him his Gordita Supreme and free Cherry Pepsi.  He still insisted on asking if I had been drinking or smoking and he wanted to search my car.  Tool.

This kind of stuff happened all the time.  And, while I don't have the same negative view of police anymore, I still get nervous and shaky when they pull me over.  Thankfully, I was driving the speed limit all the way home.  I'm tired, ready for bed, and I'm 200 yards from home.  So sleepy.  That's when I see the license plate in the other lane.

Anybody that's ever driven a car knows that as soon as that plate drives by you in the other lane, you check your rear-view.  Nothing to worry about I think.  I've been driving the speed limit, I'm almost home.  It's all good.

Then he turns around and I go Captain Picard.

Picard's reaction edited for family blog.

 Seriously, why would you turn around, I'm driving the speed limit, I'm not swerving like a drunk.  I figure he's just close to the end of the county line so he's turning around and heading back to town.  Wrong.  I pull in to my driveway and open the garage door.  That's when I see him flip on his lights and pull in right behind me.  And then, my brain goes in to scumbag mode.

It starts playing out all the possible scenarios and telling me how he's going to make them happen.  "Remember that beer you had at 8 o'clock?  I know it's 12:30 now, but I've been refusing to return your BAC to an acceptable level.  You're going to get a DUI in your driveway son.  Oh, you're nervous and need to play it cool?  How about I make your hands shake like you're trying to hide something.  I'll throw in a little voice-cracking too just to make sure it seems like you're lying.  My but this is fun.  How about I make you avoid eye contact too?  Perfect.  Should I just go ahead and start moving your arms behind your back to prepare for the cuffs?"

The officer hands my license and insurance back and says that he pulled me over for a burnt out license plate bulb.  He gives me a warning since I'm home safely and he leaves.  I walk inside, my exhaustion gone thanks to the last 5 minutes of my 60-minute drive.  I tell my brain to suck it while I slip into bed:

Thanks a ton Scumbag Brain.  It wasn't enough to belittle me in conversation earlier, now you're going to keep me awake too.