warning: listening to bon jovi makes you break the law.

"dammit dammit dammit"

is what i'm thinking as i fly down princes highway at the speed of light (130 km).  i've just passed a policeman, who was coming the opposite direction.  

i take my foot of the gas and promptly apply it to the brake.  "what's the speed limit again?"

"i don't know," mj says (not at the same time.  that would be weird).

i saw his tail lights flash in my rearview mirror.  he was slowing down.  

"he's gone" says mj (well, just one of them, but i don't remember who.)

---

"dammit dammit dammit"

is what i'm thinking as the police car gets bigger and bigger in every mirror i see.  

"his lights aren't flashing," jeanne says.

---

"dammit dammit dammit"

is what i'm thinking as i see flashes of red and blue light in the rearview mirror.  in a way, i'm relieved that i don't have to keep wondering if he's going to pull me over or not (LIE).

as he approaches the car, i put my hands on the wheel.  i saw on tv somewhere that this tells the policeman that i'm not armed.  this doesn't stop me from asking mel "i put my hands on the wheel right?" to break up the awkwardness.

i put down the driver side window to talk to the policeman.  except that the driver's side window is on the right-hand side, not the left.     

hi, i'm walter, and i'm a dumb american.

hi walter.

 so i put the window back up and put down the real driver's side window.

"good afternoon, sir," says officer aussie, putting his hand on the hood of the car.

"hi" i say, in my idiot speech.

"you guys victorian, tourin' or what?"

"we're tourists," i say as if it ain't bloody obvious.

"where ya from?"

"we're from florida," i say.  i've always been embarrassed to about that, but i'm sure now that florida's more embarrassed that i'm from there than i am.

"they got speed limits and signs in florida?"

"hahaha, yeah they do." i'm sure glad gary's not here to see this moment.  i tell the officer that when we passed him, we weren't sure how fast the speed limit was.

"speed limit's 100 km/hr.  i clocked you at 130 km/hr."

i say nothing here.  i being to wonder if my abnormally large feet is factor in my speeding.  i decide to look this up later (LIE).

"happened to me in great britain.  unfortunately it's gonna be a paper ticket," he says apologetically.  this throws me off guard.  he's easily the nicest policeman i've ever encountered.  he doesn't throw his weight around.  he isn't condescending.  he's just doing his job.  i respect that.  

when we goes back to the car there is a moment of silence.

"it was the bon jovi," says mel.  we had just stopped at a gas station and purchased a two disc CD of top 40 hits.  the first track was a bon jovi song.

"it's my life," i say in defense.  yuk yuk.

jeanne then tells us about how she got pulled over all the time in georgia.  she said it was the speed traps.

"ever get a ticket?" i ask.

she shakes her head.

"i got pulled over once, but not for speeding," mel says.  

"what was it for?" i ask.

"for not having my headlights on."

"were they broken?" 

"no."

if you want to know more about THAT story, you can apparently read it in a book somewhere. 

"did you get a ticket?" i ask.

mel shakes her head no.

"damn," i say. "i wish i was a hot chick so that i would never get tickets."

when the policeman comes back to the window, he's got the paper ticket in his hand.

when the policeman gets back to the window, he tells me the amount of the ticket is $300.00 (this translates to roughly two hundred american dollars).  

"don't worry about the demerits (points), we don't give demerits to tourists."

"so i can pay for that online?"

"yeah, you can pay it if you like or you can put it in yer scrapbook."

wait, what did he say?

"my job is to make people drive a little slowah on the road, is all.  please don't let it stop from you from tourin'."  

we said goodbye and he walked back.  

"did he just say that i didn't have to pay for it?"

"i think so," said mj (but not at the same time.  that would be weird).

"i think he liked you", jeanne said.

jeanne's thought is nice but i know better.  i'm driving with two hot chics.

hot chics? no ticket.