"I was steamed at a co-worker. I had driven an hour into the office for a meeting, and saw that
he canceled it when I was but one exit away from the office. So I didn't bother going in —
I just kept going on the access road for the US-75 Central Expressway and turned around under the
next overpass.
The flow of traffic on the access road is about 50 MPH. I turned on a surface street, and headed
home. I wasn't paying attention to my speed and was pulled over by an unmarked police car.
I remember thinking, "Are those lights for me?" to be safe, I slowed and pulled to the lane on
my right. He followed me... so there was my answer."
I got this ticket a year ago today. And lately, with all that's been happening about
BLM and associated police brutality, I
think about my experience and the officer who ticketed me a LOT lately.
I need to hear he's doing well. I need to hear he's safe, and he's okay.
I need these things because I remember him so. Hell, he even extended his hand
and he thanked me for taking responsibility for the ticket I earned. Believe me, I
don't love that I earned the ticket — I was really hoping he'd let me slide — nor
the ensuing months of making sure I don't screw up again. I'm focused on the man.
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