Conversation between me and a very polite police officer after I got pulled over this morning:
Him: Is there a reason you were going so fast, ma’am?
me: Um…a vaguely medical emergency?
me: I’m late to see my psychiatrist?
him: That doesn’t really count as a medical emergency.
me: What if I said I had a severe medical condition that was invisible? And…dangerous?
me: I’m not threatening you. I’m just curious.
him: Can you step out of the vehicle, ma’am?
me: I can. Are you asking me to step out of the vehicle, or do you just want to know if I have the ability to?
him: Step out of the vehicle, ma’am.
me: Sure. Sorry. I couldn’t tell if it was a trick question.
him: Not a trick question. This is your ticket….blah, blah, blah (I’m paraphrasing the boring parts about court and junk.)
me: This ticket says that I’m Hispanic.
me: And that my car is grey.
Him: Yes, ma’am.
me: So that’s wrong and so technically I could just tell the court that you arrested the wrong girl. Not that I would do that. I’m just telling you that so that in case you needed to change it. Although I am half Czech and 1/164th Cherokee and there’s probably not a box for that.
him: No, ma’am. This paper will tell you how much your fine is if you choose to pay it.
me: Oh my God, this is so much math.
me: You say “ma’am” a lot.
him: Yes ma’am.
me: I haven’t gotten a ticket in years so you have to help me. So it’s $151 for the first 10 miles over the speed limit and then $5 every additional mile?
him: Whatever it says on the card, ma’am.
me: So it’s A = $151 + (mph -10 + 5N). Solve for A?
him: You can call this number and they can tell you exactly what the fine is, ma’am.
me: Awesome. So, like an algebra tutoring program for the recently arrested.
him: You’re not under arrest, ma’am.
me: God, I want that for my ring-tone.
me: Nothing. Thank you, officer.
him: Be careful out there, ma’am.