My best beating a traffic ticket: one New Years Eve in the early 90s I was going … oh, very quickly on a back highway in South Carolina on my way to Atlanta for the holiday when I was pulled over by a highway patrol officer who whipped his car around to come after me. At the time I was a grad student at Duke and had a sticker on my car that allowed me to park in the Divinity School parking lot. Anyway … he walks up to me and as I rolled down the window, called me ‘Reverend’. I don’t know how or why it happened, but I replied with ‘Thank you for slowing me down - I was lost in thought’. He nodded, looked at my license and gave it back. He then said - I shit you not - ‘That’s OK, Reverend. Just next time’ - he leaned in my window and tapped my speedometer- ‘be thinking about this’. I almost died with relief… and I kept that parking sticker on the car for fucking years.
Okay … sorry to have to do this folks, but my last name at birth and up until the age of 40 was the same as Dad’s cousin, Phyllis Diller’s, original last name of Driver! I got out of one DUI in San Leandro when I turned left across double yellow line median spacing in a roadway near my office. I was high as a kite on my way out dancing. And the cop just let me go when he saw my last name because I always said well you know what they say, keep up the good family name and all
Another time in Berkeley, I turned left if something about turning left with me and I’ll always be left, but I was turning left at the air section during rush-hour, and it had no left clearly, but it was clear. No reason I couldn’t, and that cop left me off too because of my last name.
My original last name now clearly shows up as my middle name instead of anything else because I go by my middle name. If you got all that you’re more awake than I am this Sunday morning thank you.
I love this! Hilarious. Related: I used to go to a dispensary that sold a strain of weed called Phyllis Diller. The grower didn't produce a lot, but so they usually didn't have it. But when they did, they'd put up a picture of Phyllis Diller to let people know. The strain was popular with customers for its giggly effect.
Of course, there was also the time when my friend dislocated his shoulder and his wife and I took him to the hospital. It was night and there were police and a metal detector. They walk through fine, but I set it off. And it was only as I patted my pockets that I realised I had my little one-hitter in my jeans. So, I removed whatever metal I could immediately find (understanding I had recently used said one-hitter) and went through again. And set it off. By now, I was becoming of interest, and all I had on my person in addition to the offending object was my barely-metal rimmed glasses. I took them off, went through again and … no sound. The cop working the detector shook his head and said he’d never known it to be so sensitive. This was well before the revolution in legalisation, so there was some major relief.
The first time my Mum took me to a hairdresser, she warned me beforehand that the lady talked non-stop. Throughout the cut, the hairdresser didn’t say a word. I don’t go regularly, but 50 years later that is still mostly my experience. I’m like a coffee break for Hair stylists
1. Alice? I really do hope she was ok. Because I hadn’t had my coffee when I first wrote this, Here’s my unasked for theory on Joy —she was probably grateful she didn’t have to keep up a conversation and/or just as captivated by Rick Rubin’s story. Or, he’d already told it so many times that day she was plotting different ways to murder him.
2. The notion that a Tesla is an ass-magnet beggars belief but that’s just me. I’m curious how much “repeat business” he gets.
3. Bet.
4. It could have been rude or valedictory. Or she was worn out.
5. Yes. I was fifteen and had just gotten my license. Had a wreck on the way home from school because some guys in a truck passed me on the right and stopped in front of me and I hit them. I was cited for failure to maintain control. My dad went with me to juvenile court, and it just happened that our chief of police did the same thing the week before my hearing and did not get cited, as noted in the newspaper clipping he casually took from his pocket as he questioned the cop. My dad did not refer to the article. He just unfolded it and smoothed it out slowly while he politely asked his questions. The DA tossed his pen down on the table while the judge, an old guy who my mom knew for some reason (maybe she went to school with his kids) smiled and kind of shifted in his seat. My ticket was dismissed with the judge telling me “I believe you maintained control all the way through the back of that truck. Dismissed.” I asked my dad what happened and he said “I’ll explain later let’s just get outta here!” King.
I loved this so much! Your comeback at the end was priceless 😆.
Recently I posted a side-by-side pair of pics of me and my college bestie, a then and now type situation. My hair in the college era pic was fiery red; in the now pic, it’s a dull, faint orange. I complained about this to Baldy, my husband, and he clapped back with, “at least you have hair to complain about.” Touché.
Baldy used to be federal law enforcement, so I have a nifty wallet badge that says “officer’s wife.” It’s where I house my license. One time I was pulled over going 42 in a 30. I carefully removed my license from the nifty badge wallet, making sure to shine the badge part in the officer’s direction. He asked, “is your husband a cop?” and I replied unassumingly, “he’s border protection at JFK.” He advised me to slow down and have a nice day.
I’d like to be in the running for the lamest “beat a ticket” story in your comment feed, please 🤭
p.s. Office Space is the shit. I’m always shocked when people haven’t heard of it.
Your story falls under the category of “beat ‘em by joining ‘em.” Or in your case, marrying ‘em. It’s not lame. Tickets are lame. I’m all for safety, but tickets are about revenue.
Alice might have gone to work at a salary job. That’s what one of my previous barbers did. Or just moved to a better shop.
Going to the barbershop for the stories is one of my favorite trips. My most recent professional barber always has them. One time the Portland police “arrested” someone in front of their shop. My barber was in and out of court for a few years on the cop’s criminal and civil cases. Another time he recorded someone break.
Now that we moved, the wife cuts my hair.
I didn’t beat the ticket, but we were driving through Louisiana about 11 am. The local constable stopped me for going over the school zone speed. Of course the sign clearly said something like 7 am - 9 am. Luckily, I only had to come up with $20 as a performance bond to be allowed to continue on my journey. The cop’s name? Billy Crook.
Speeding in school zones is a big offense in Louisiana. I haven’t lived there in a long time, but it freaks me out to see people speeding in school zones to this day.
Yes, but I was going the posted speed limit for the little town. I just hadn’t slowed down to the school zone speed since it was outside the posted speed.
Office Space absolutely rules, might be my favorite movie. Glengarry Glen Ross and a set of steak knives also rule. Being called hairy isn't a criticism, just an observation. I work for a traffic attorney so I drive like I want to. One of our frequent flyer clients is his barber, she cannot drive 55, so the attorney gets free haircuts for life.
I’ve never had a traffic ticket (I’m a good girl, I am) but my favorite time when I’m sure someone else did was when I was in Marin County driving north on 101 (note not “The 101” north of the Tehachapis) and I watched as an a$$hole who had been driving like 💩 changed lanes without signaling. Again. Only this time it was right in front of a CHP. I mean, literally in front of. There was a beat when you could see the officer thinking, “Really? Did the MFer just do that?” And then he hit his siren and pulled the guy over.
1. One hopes she’s not cutting hair *while* the guy’s face is melting.
2. I can only think epic beards. The Lubavitcher Rebbe’s, for example.
3. It certainly does.
4. Cultural Misread. Simple statement of fact, maybe a compliment even.
5. Went through a red light, got stopped. Told the cop I was looking for an address for an appointment. Pulled out an old business card and asked him if he had enough life insurance. He didn’t even bother with the warning — he just took off.
My best beating a traffic ticket: one New Years Eve in the early 90s I was going … oh, very quickly on a back highway in South Carolina on my way to Atlanta for the holiday when I was pulled over by a highway patrol officer who whipped his car around to come after me. At the time I was a grad student at Duke and had a sticker on my car that allowed me to park in the Divinity School parking lot. Anyway … he walks up to me and as I rolled down the window, called me ‘Reverend’. I don’t know how or why it happened, but I replied with ‘Thank you for slowing me down - I was lost in thought’. He nodded, looked at my license and gave it back. He then said - I shit you not - ‘That’s OK, Reverend. Just next time’ - he leaned in my window and tapped my speedometer- ‘be thinking about this’. I almost died with relief… and I kept that parking sticker on the car for fucking years.
Holy shit! Literally. God was looking out for you. I love this story, Rev!
Okay … sorry to have to do this folks, but my last name at birth and up until the age of 40 was the same as Dad’s cousin, Phyllis Diller’s, original last name of Driver! I got out of one DUI in San Leandro when I turned left across double yellow line median spacing in a roadway near my office. I was high as a kite on my way out dancing. And the cop just let me go when he saw my last name because I always said well you know what they say, keep up the good family name and all
Another time in Berkeley, I turned left if something about turning left with me and I’ll always be left, but I was turning left at the air section during rush-hour, and it had no left clearly, but it was clear. No reason I couldn’t, and that cop left me off too because of my last name.
My original last name now clearly shows up as my middle name instead of anything else because I go by my middle name. If you got all that you’re more awake than I am this Sunday morning thank you.
I love this! Hilarious. Related: I used to go to a dispensary that sold a strain of weed called Phyllis Diller. The grower didn't produce a lot, but so they usually didn't have it. But when they did, they'd put up a picture of Phyllis Diller to let people know. The strain was popular with customers for its giggly effect.
That’s a great story!
Of course, there was also the time when my friend dislocated his shoulder and his wife and I took him to the hospital. It was night and there were police and a metal detector. They walk through fine, but I set it off. And it was only as I patted my pockets that I realised I had my little one-hitter in my jeans. So, I removed whatever metal I could immediately find (understanding I had recently used said one-hitter) and went through again. And set it off. By now, I was becoming of interest, and all I had on my person in addition to the offending object was my barely-metal rimmed glasses. I took them off, went through again and … no sound. The cop working the detector shook his head and said he’d never known it to be so sensitive. This was well before the revolution in legalisation, so there was some major relief.
The first time my Mum took me to a hairdresser, she warned me beforehand that the lady talked non-stop. Throughout the cut, the hairdresser didn’t say a word. I don’t go regularly, but 50 years later that is still mostly my experience. I’m like a coffee break for Hair stylists
I was in cosmetology school in 1972, and I gave a lady a permanent and cut her hair and then I had to do her nails. She cried midway through.
“You hairy man” was so unexpected and perfect 😂
Very unexpected.
1. Alice? I really do hope she was ok. Because I hadn’t had my coffee when I first wrote this, Here’s my unasked for theory on Joy —she was probably grateful she didn’t have to keep up a conversation and/or just as captivated by Rick Rubin’s story. Or, he’d already told it so many times that day she was plotting different ways to murder him.
2. The notion that a Tesla is an ass-magnet beggars belief but that’s just me. I’m curious how much “repeat business” he gets.
3. Bet.
4. It could have been rude or valedictory. Or she was worn out.
5. Yes. I was fifteen and had just gotten my license. Had a wreck on the way home from school because some guys in a truck passed me on the right and stopped in front of me and I hit them. I was cited for failure to maintain control. My dad went with me to juvenile court, and it just happened that our chief of police did the same thing the week before my hearing and did not get cited, as noted in the newspaper clipping he casually took from his pocket as he questioned the cop. My dad did not refer to the article. He just unfolded it and smoothed it out slowly while he politely asked his questions. The DA tossed his pen down on the table while the judge, an old guy who my mom knew for some reason (maybe she went to school with his kids) smiled and kind of shifted in his seat. My ticket was dismissed with the judge telling me “I believe you maintained control all the way through the back of that truck. Dismissed.” I asked my dad what happened and he said “I’ll explain later let’s just get outta here!” King.
It takes a certain kind of person to sleep with someone because they have a Tesla. Sadly, we have too many of those kinds of people in Los Angeles.
Coming back here to share a link to this awesome pic of a smiling Rick Rubin: https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fassets2.cbsnewsstatic.com%2Fhub%2Fi%2Fr%2F2023%2F01%2F15%2F6221e088-991f-4af0-aecf-1f3d63bc5d9f%2Fthumbnail%2F1200x630%2F1dc67a06a47a7e54b9605d75aed9a4f4%2Frickrubinarticle.jpg%3Fv%3D5710b2ed1cee1bdfd30cb9c02455b43d&tbnid=dmlC3IGtjD44JM&vet=1&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cbsnews.com%2Fnews%2Frick-rubin-60-minutes-2023-01-15%2F&docid=-z6-m1Y9cq9gNM&w=1200&h=630&itg=1&hl=en&source=sh%2Fx%2Fim%2Fm4%2F3&kgs=954c2ddfdbc5fe7e&shem=abme%2Ctrie
Wonderful Rick Rubin pic!
This is how to deadpan, folks:
"Evidently, Rick Rubin was right because Milton didn’t laugh about all the ass that came with the red Tesla."
I will give Mortimer the week off with no protest.
I loved this so much! Your comeback at the end was priceless 😆.
Recently I posted a side-by-side pair of pics of me and my college bestie, a then and now type situation. My hair in the college era pic was fiery red; in the now pic, it’s a dull, faint orange. I complained about this to Baldy, my husband, and he clapped back with, “at least you have hair to complain about.” Touché.
Baldy used to be federal law enforcement, so I have a nifty wallet badge that says “officer’s wife.” It’s where I house my license. One time I was pulled over going 42 in a 30. I carefully removed my license from the nifty badge wallet, making sure to shine the badge part in the officer’s direction. He asked, “is your husband a cop?” and I replied unassumingly, “he’s border protection at JFK.” He advised me to slow down and have a nice day.
I’d like to be in the running for the lamest “beat a ticket” story in your comment feed, please 🤭
p.s. Office Space is the shit. I’m always shocked when people haven’t heard of it.
Your story falls under the category of “beat ‘em by joining ‘em.” Or in your case, marrying ‘em. It’s not lame. Tickets are lame. I’m all for safety, but tickets are about revenue.
Alice might have gone to work at a salary job. That’s what one of my previous barbers did. Or just moved to a better shop.
Going to the barbershop for the stories is one of my favorite trips. My most recent professional barber always has them. One time the Portland police “arrested” someone in front of their shop. My barber was in and out of court for a few years on the cop’s criminal and civil cases. Another time he recorded someone break.
Now that we moved, the wife cuts my hair.
I didn’t beat the ticket, but we were driving through Louisiana about 11 am. The local constable stopped me for going over the school zone speed. Of course the sign clearly said something like 7 am - 9 am. Luckily, I only had to come up with $20 as a performance bond to be allowed to continue on my journey. The cop’s name? Billy Crook.
Wow, that Louisiana ticket just screams corruption. And that cop’s name 😂
Speeding in school zones is a big offense in Louisiana. I haven’t lived there in a long time, but it freaks me out to see people speeding in school zones to this day.
Yes, but I was going the posted speed limit for the little town. I just hadn’t slowed down to the school zone speed since it was outside the posted speed.
Completely off topic from the questions BUT I bought, read and thoroughly enjoyed both your books!
That’s never off topic! Thank you, Missy! If you have a moment to leave a quick review that would be awesome! It really helps.
Office Space absolutely rules, might be my favorite movie. Glengarry Glen Ross and a set of steak knives also rule. Being called hairy isn't a criticism, just an observation. I work for a traffic attorney so I drive like I want to. One of our frequent flyer clients is his barber, she cannot drive 55, so the attorney gets free haircuts for life.
This is a perfect comment!
1. She tried doing hair in a new city, but the aggro queen and her playing card goons made for bad customers and worse neighbors. The cat was alright.
2. Walking away from St. Anger with an intact reputation. Magic trick of the century.
3. It is known.
4. I’d say so. But misinterpreting those situations is my first and greatest skill.
5. I’ve logged the classic Brooklyn number of hours behind the wheel. I think I’m more likely to be bitten by a squirrel.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone in New York getting a traffic ticket.
It's in the City Charter somewhere.
I’ve never had a traffic ticket (I’m a good girl, I am) but my favorite time when I’m sure someone else did was when I was in Marin County driving north on 101 (note not “The 101” north of the Tehachapis) and I watched as an a$$hole who had been driving like 💩 changed lanes without signaling. Again. Only this time it was right in front of a CHP. I mean, literally in front of. There was a beat when you could see the officer thinking, “Really? Did the MFer just do that?” And then he hit his siren and pulled the guy over.
That is karma! Love to see that.
Still selling carefully labeled hair clippings to struggling single moms to hire free lance witch doctors to jinx deadbeat dads until they pony up
This feels correct!
1. One hopes she’s not cutting hair *while* the guy’s face is melting.
2. I can only think epic beards. The Lubavitcher Rebbe’s, for example.
3. It certainly does.
4. Cultural Misread. Simple statement of fact, maybe a compliment even.
5. Went through a red light, got stopped. Told the cop I was looking for an address for an appointment. Pulled out an old business card and asked him if he had enough life insurance. He didn’t even bother with the warning — he just took off.
Wow! Trying to sell the cop life insurance was a bold move. Well played!
Thanks. I guess ABC applies even if you’re not really selling.
Oh you were selling… selling him on the idea of letting you go. And it worked!
The old life insurance sales pitch dodge. Hat tip to you, sir!
Good thing I kept those business cards after my brief insurance sales experience!
Loved it and can’t wait to read for of your crime fiction; I’m a huge fan of the genre. Keep up the great work and thanks for brightening up my day.
Thanks Tim!
Damn Joy chill!! I’m terrible at comebacks but I have a mean “why did you just say that” face, which usually does the trick.
Also laughed out loud at the “one pandemic away” joke.
Thank you, Erin! I was proud of that joke.
Another brilliant camp story, Mike! LOL. A red Tesla at 100, on the 118...yeah, that'll dump in court. :D
Thank you, Frank!