Ask my husband and he’ll tell you that I may have a tendency to drive a wee bit faster than I ought to. 

Okay, I tend to push it to the (speed) limit and then a bit beyond.

Today, I enjoyed the benefits of being a fat old WHITE lady.

I was late to water aerobics, and I knew I was going faster than I should, but I was watching the traffic light and didn’t want to spare a glance to see how fast I was going.

Turns out I was going 17 mph too fast. 

Oops.

The officer pulled me over.  Did not ask me that self-incriminating question, “Do you know how fast you were going?”  (To which I would have had to honestly answer, “Not a clue.”)  He simply told me, I was going 52 mph (and for those who wish to (sensibly) avoid math, that would be in a 35 mph zone).

Oops.

I told him (honestly), I did not realize that I had let “it” (being my lead foot) get so far away from me.

He took my driver’s license (but did not ask for my registration – probably because he (understandably) figured nobody would have stolen a 2003 Toyota Corolla with basically none of the modern car conveniences (e.g., I drive a stick shift, with manual roll-down windows). 

And ….as I sat there considering my life choices and thinking, if this takes too long, I’m skipping water aerobics …and he let me off with a warning.

I’m not complaining, but seriously, I earned that ticket. 

And I have to wonder how it would have ended if my skin were darker or my age not quite so advanced.  But I wasn’t going to argue with the officer.  I simply hope that his kind attitude extends to those who are more deserving than this fat old lady.