Maybe I've gotten a little too comfortable with driving. Because I'm starting to break the rules a little bit.
I was driving on the freeway, in the third lane over, cruising merrily at 75mph, singing along to Katy Perry, when I looked in my mirror and saw a motorcycle curiously close on my tail.
Before I even had time to react, the cyclist had swerved into the left lane, and pulled up alongside me.
It was a cop, complete with helmet, dark shades, handlebar mustache, and every other stereotypical cop-like accessory.
And as I turned my head to look at him, he pointed his index finger at me, and started yelling/mouthing:
SLOW.
DOWN.
I don't know if I slowed to a 55mph crawl because of his warning or because I was just so freaked out I took my foot off the gas.
I don't know why he decided not to turn on his siren and pull me over. Maybe it was my Northwestern Wildcats license plate and he had seen how terribly we lost our bowl game just a few days ago. Maybe it's because he saw my USC parking sticker. Maybe it's because he realized I would be that Asian girl who cries when she gets a ticket.
Whatever the reason, I'm super glad I'm not paying off a $250 fine and attending traffic school.
But friends, I was only going 75mph.
3 years ago
