Ticket To Ride

Friday April 11th, 2008 - San Francisco, CA/Chicago, IL

A little glitch in the master plan today. I left the hotel after the show so I could make it back to San Francisco to catch my flight back to Chicago at 7am. It was a long dangerous winding drive through dark roads and steep hills at 6000 feet and I didn’t want to take any needless chances on missing my plane so I decided to leave right after I got paid. So I did.

I made it through the dangerous part with no problems at all and carefully headed west on I-80 and down the mountain where the Donner Party had their little smorgasbord party back in the day. I can’t imagine being stuck there with no food and I was afraid even to be in a car on a paved road having to cross over that terrain. It’s a LOT scarier than it seems.

I thought the worst was over as I saw the mountains flatten out to a regular old highway terrain as I neared Sacramento. I noticed a couple of people zooming past me at speeds of what had to be over 100 miles an hour. They had souped up looking cars and I haven’t an idea who they were or what they were doing but I could see I didn’t want to be near them.

This happened four or five times and I wasn’t thrilled about it especially at 2am. Who’s out then? Drunks, pimps and comedians too stupid to book flights closer to their gig. I did not want to get rear ended by a coked up pimp in a souped up hoopty on my way home at 2 in the morning but what could I do about it? I turned up the radio and kept on driving.

A couple of minutes later I noticed flashing sirens in my mirror and thought they might be after those maniacs but it turned out they were after ME. I couldn’t believe it. I quickly pulled over and held up my hands like I always do when I’m pulled over especially late at night. I have found cops a lot less edgy if they can see both of my hands the whole time.

I refrained from any Erik Estrada jokes as he came to the passenger’s side and asked for my license and proof of insurance which I had. He said with an unhidden blast of disgust ‘I got you going at 80 miles an hour. EIGHTY.’ Then he shook his head and walked back to write my ticket. I couldn’t believe he stopped me and not those other guys going faster.

He must have been in the car twenty minutes and I wasn’t sure if I had any outstanding warrants or unpaid parking tickets in Kalamazoo that might bite me in the short hairs at 2am in Sacramento when I’m trying to catch a plane. Nope. He handed me the ticket and said I’d be hearing from the state in the mail in about three weeks. And then that was it.

I thought that was really strange and it was stranger that there wasn’t even an amount on the ticket. I’ve had a couple of speeding tickets now in the last few months and it’s been a huge hassle not only to pay them but to have to jump through all the hoops of each state.

I hope it doesn’t jack my insurance up my tail pipe but it probably will. What can I do? I know, I know. DON’T SPEED. Ha. A lot easier to say than to do and I challenge anyone driving to ‘quit speeding’. Not so easy. I have never seen anything ever called ‘The Great American Speed Off’ where speeders quit cold turkey. We like to push our driving limits.