A few weeks ago I got a speeding ticket, a charge which I found completely bogus. It was a Saturday morning and I was out on loop 1604 on my way to Seguin (i.e. way out in the boonies with no one on the road) and when I was pulled over, I honestly had no clue what I had done. When I saw the cop car pull up behind me, I was approaching a red light and therefore slowing down. Perhaps at the second I crossed the 45 MPH speed limit sign (which comes up out of nowhere and is conveniently placed at the top of a hill), I was going a tad faster than that, but the twelve-year-old cop who gave me the ticket was clearly sitting there waiting for someone to do this very thing. The whole thing was really annoying, yet I managed to forget about it until a couple of days ago.
The court date on my ticket was coming right up, so I had to deal with the situation. Bob convinced me that I should go down to the courthouse before the date on the ticket and tell them that I wanted to take defensive driving thereby avoiding getting points on my driving record and causing my insurance rates to go up. He had to explain all of this to me in painful detail because anyone who has ridden in my car knows that I drive like a little old granny and I don't know how these things work. I consulted my friend Ben who has had more speeding tickets than he can count and he told me to be prepared to wait in a very long line. So off I went to the courthouse with a simple sock knitting project in my bag and prepared for an afternoon of knitting and waiting. When I got there (I'd never been there before), I had to go through a metal detector and my bag had to go through one of those machines like the ones at the airport. Of course, my US 1 nickel plated KnitPicks circulars set off all kinds of alarms and I was told that I had to leave them there at the front desk. They gave me a little claim ticket and told me I could have my knitting back when I was finished with my business. How lame is that?
4x1 rib sock in Twisted Fiber Art Cordial colorway (exclusive sock club yarn), super cute little knitting purse from somewhere Etsy, and a bowl of fake apples (the dining room is the only room that gets any light at this time of day)
Of course, I had to wait in one truly heinous line. The other line wasn't so bad and I managed to get out of there in under an hour. The best part was on my way out when I went to get my knitting back. I handed the guy there my little ticket and he opened a drawer full of knives, wrenches, and other assorted hefty metal objects asked me which was mine. I told him that the little brown bag with circles on it was mine and he laughed and asked what I had in there. I opened it to show him and he agreed that my needles were definitely not allowed. Oh well, now I know to bring bamboo needles the next time I expect to be hanging around the courthouse. I better be allowed to knit during defensive driving. I'll bring my Harmony bamboo needles, just in case.