My day started with a modern-day public flogging, or so it felt. Driving back from dropping off the carpool my husband called. I answered and we chatted for a minute as I pulled into the neighborhood. I looked in my rear view mirror and flashing cop lights stared back at me. That sinking feeling (think Titanic) took over as I hung up on my husband mid-sentence. Police Dude walked over, asked for my license, and told me what I already knew; I was talking on the cell phone without a hands-free headset. Guilty as charged. I did not even try to talk or beg out of the damn ticket. Then my phone rang loudly. It was my husband calling back, wondering why I cut him off. I ignored the ring that felt like salt in a fresh wound. Cop Dude ignored it also as he took my license and registration, then waltzed back to his squad car.
The most difficult part of this 8am crisis? My neighborhood was alive with energetic joggers, dog walkers, and cars. Each Mrs. Kravitz (remember that nosey neighbor from Bewitched?) looked at me with a pitiful glance. Even the dogs. It seemed that everyone I had ever met was out–and-about the minute I broke the law. My next-door neighbor, who was taking her kids to school, stopped by and curiously rolled down her window. When I arrived to work (late of course), a neighbor/co-worker was walking her students to class. She saw me and from across the hall in a louder-than-usual voice said slowly, “That. Wasn’t. You. Getting. Pulled …” I started to nod and confess before she could finish the sentence. Farumph!
I realized that this situation is not “open-heart-surgery,” as we say in our house to help one find perspective on what is truly worth griping and worrying over. However, if I were to describe what it felt to have my pride and insides shake while waiting for THE ticket to be written (as my neighborhood watched) I can only describe it as a self-induced-well-deserved-modern-day flogging.
Word of the day? Bluetooth ;0)