I have a problem. Actually I have more than one, but for the purpose of today’s post, I have only one.

I drive fast. I take chances. Everyday.

And today I got busted. Again. There were two other times in 2009. Each happened within a month of the other. In fact, the second time I got pulled over in 2009 was when I was on my way to traffic school as punishment for the first time.

2009

January 30, 2010

Before I drove a Mercedes, I ALWAYS talked my way out of tickets.

I was tested today. Using my best charm with the very handsome highway patrol officer, I tried my hardest to get out of this ticket. We talked about our kids. He shared where he grew up and what his dad did for a living. And we giggled about turning on the passenger seat heaters when we have an unsuspecting passenger. He does it too!

But it all ended with him doing the unthinkable (in my mind). Of course, I batted my eyes and asked him to not give me a ticket. He laughed. A little too hard. And said, “Well, I already gave away all my warnings this morning. But I’ll be gentle.”

Bam. He slapped me with a speeding ticket. Of course, he only put it as 10 mph over the speed limit. I was going significantly over that. And by significantly, I mean 23 mph over. Then he started to tell me about what to do (i.e. call this number but you must wait…), but quickly stopped the explanation, told me that I should know how to do this after mentioning all my other speeding ticket experiences in 2009 and then told me to slow down.

So here I am. Wondering if I should get a car that is harder to speed in. Any suggestions?

Damn car. It has these warning lights that continue to haunt me. One is for tire pressure and is pretty important evidently.

After ignoring the HUGE RED WARNING for 2 days I decided to be responsible on my way in to work. That means stopping at a gas station, putting $.75 in the machine and filling up my tires with air. Not a fun task. But I couldn’t stand the red warning yelling at me every time I drove any longer.

Well this turned out to be a messy job. The picture below is proof. You know why? Because I made the mistake of using my brakes. Those damn things cause brake dust to get all over my tire rims. So I’m changing my ways. No more braking. Ever. I’ll slow down by taking my foot of the gas. But that’s it.

You’ll also notice in the picture that I’m clearly not braking from the speedometer reading. And that I need to get my car cleaned. The dust is horrible.

Warning: watch for me on the roads in Salt Lake City. I can no longer use my brakes because it causes dirty fingers.