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Confessions of a Criminal

Will the cop pull me over and write me? I've always wondered about this situation.
I consider rural Nevada highway speed limits to be suggestions. I found a comfortable speed for Libby- 85- and zipped along. The highway bisected desert, a black snake between sage, to the distant hills.
A car pulled in front of me, probably a mile ahead. Easy to spot, as he's the only moving thing for 200 square miles. I caught up to him and paced him, 85, must be the standard desert speed. After a few miles he signaled and pulled to the right for me to pass and I passed- oh no, a County Sheriff!
As soon as I passed- decelerating- he pulled behind me and paced me, and now we both went a sedate seventy.
Would he light up his lights and ticket me? I set the cruise and thought of my responses:
"You can't ticket me unless you ticket yourself."
"Were you in pursuit of anyone?"
"Isn't this a bit hypocritical?"
Yet I knew I would just shut up and take it like a coward, afraid of The Man.
He followed at a safe distance, no lights. I checked the speed. Okay.
"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
Right.
I had no excuse except riding through the desert, no traffic, no cross streets, nobody for mega miles. That wouldn't fly, I knew it.
And then...
He stopped and turned around.
Whew.
I kept it at seventy.
For a few miles.
Then I dialed it back up to eighty- five.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thank you for your confession, Mr. Parsons. Your information has been forwarded to the County Sheriff's Office and they will be contacting you shortly.
PS--Enjoy your stay at the heartbreak hotel.

Karla Akins said...

I get it I really do!

................................ Kevin Parsons said...

I knew if I was honest I would be judged! Oh we'll, I deserve it.
KP