The United States Hates Me

It’s official. Sometimes I get harassed at the border, sometimes my car gets dented in a parking lot. But usually when I’m down south something happens that shows just how much the US hates me.

Today I was driving along, having a pretty good time listening to music, when I looked up in my rear view mirror and saw the cherries flashing. Since it’s been about 12 years since I’ve been pulled over, I didn’t even really get that the lights were for me. I thought, “hmm, that’s peculiar, I wonder why he doesn’t just go around me.” Anyways, I pulled over to the side of the road, and proceeded to get my first speeding ticket in 12 years.

Strangely enough, I had been stuck behind a semi truck for about 20 miles when the cop gave me a ticket. I told him I really doubted I was speeding, since the semi was in front of me, but he didn’t seem to think that was the case. So anyways, yours truly got slapped with a nice $154 USD speeding ticket to start the trip. Oh well.

Of course, speeding tickets down here are a pain in the ass, and I was told I’ll have to show up in traffic court in Bellingham at some point. I might be able to pay the thing over the phone (I suspect they would allow that), but he said it’s worth my time to go down since I’ll probably get at least half of it waived since I had a really clean driving record.

The thing that bothers me about speeding tickets is that it’s fairly obvious it’s just a means of fundraising. You never really see cops sitting in front of schools with their radar guns, or right beside really dangerous corners. You always seen them right at the bottom of a hill or right when there’s a subtle shift in speed that only locals probably know is there.

Anyways. I’m checked into my hotel, and am going to treat myself to a post-speeding-ticket beer downstairs here.