He called it a citation, but it's still a speeding ticket. The night was going by too fast. My day off. I needed to slow down. Just think. Get some more time. However, time wasn't on my side. As the minutes ticked by I just wanted to call it a night, curl up in my blanket, and watch television until sleep came. He had other plans. He wasn't the cop.
He was another random guy that I met months ago and added to my cell phone. My initial intention was to make him just another memory, but instead conversations keeps happening. He doesn't know much about me, but I'm learning more about him.
Theater. Art. Poetry. Travel.
He's a creative and maybe that's what grabs my attention. Then again he's different than any guy I've ever met. Even the poet in Tallahassee who grew a mohawk, dreaded it, and then complained that it hurt head wasn't as interesting as this guy is. But it is because I don't really know him.
So it started with a simple Facebook conversation. During the conversation he suggested we see each other's new places. It was an odd request for the middle of the night, but this is mostly because he was for real about just seeing each other's places. He came to me first, saw my spot, and was ready to leave within minutes. Most men would have taken the opportunity of being alone with me in a different way. He didn't. He was ready for me to see his pot and even that was innocent.
So we left. I followed him in my car. He was a fast driver. I was surprised there were no cops around. I know at one point in following him I had to hit 75-80 where the speed limit was 60 or 65. Then he turned on a yellow light and I ran the red light trying to keep up. Dang, this boy had me acting bad. Still there were no cops around.
The drive took about 20 minutes. We made it to his spot. His crib looked like somewhere a man would gladly live. We talked for a few minutes. He told me about his love for trains. Trains?!?! Then within 10 minutes of me being there he said he was getting sleepy. That was my cue to leave.
You probably thought I was going to say he made a move on me. Nah, this guy is different. I think he's a nerd, but he is also a poet. He definitely has groupies.
Anyway, I left and drove much slower. I made it to the street before the street that I live on. While driving down that street I did 40 and at one point of two went a tad bit faster, but I was trying to drive slow. The speed limit was 35. See there were no cops around when I was doing 75-80 on the 65, but when I did a little over 40 on the 35, a cop turned on his lights and proceeded to hop behind me.
I did everything right. By the time the cop got out of his car and headed to my window I had registration and my driver's license out. But he did not care. This one was trying to meet his quota for the month, so he took my information and wrote out a ticket. I didn't argue. Nothing good comes out of debating with a cop. However, I did realize that I had just gotten my first speeding ticket.
I feel like a bad girl in a good way. Yaay, I got my first speeding ticket. Wait, did I really get a ticket? But that nigga didn't even speak to me the next day. That's how they get reduced to niggas.