just the ticket

 Boots: F21, Jeans: F21, Boyfriend Button Up: Target, Leather Jacket: H&M, Scarf: Husbands

We got a ticket the other day. Actually husband did, but saying ‘we’ makes it sound nicer right? I was on my way to bring him a sandwich, when he calls me. He tells me, “um, Syd? I got a ticket today.” And I say, “Oh you did, did you. Well, what for mister?” And he tells me. I proceed to give him a hard time about it, mostly just cause I’m the one usually getting tickets around here. {For parking mind you, never speeding. For the record, I have never claimed parking as one of my talents.} SO. As I continue to tease him and am in mid sentence of saying, “That ticket was how much?” I see lights in my rear view mirror. The red and blue kind. Crap. I hang up with Husband right as he is in mid sentence of saying, “You see what in your rear view mirror?” and I immediately pull over and whip out my can of mace spray. I don’t tend to use it very often, but it really comes in handy for moments like these when I need to look like I’ve been crying.
Not really.
Turns out, I was going 29 in a 25. Pa-lease. This is what happens when you live in a town with a zero point nothing crime rate. As it happens, I ended up getting away with only a warning. Maybe this was because the officer was nice. Or maybe it was because it was my very first time getting pulled over and I didn’t actually need any mace to make my eyes tear up just a little bit. Either way, we managed to hit our ticket/warning quota for the entire year within mere minutes of each other. That has to be some kind of freak record or something.