Cherries & Berries

Yesterday I saw someone get pulled over by a cop. On foot. On the Interstate. I'm not kidding!

I drove past the police officer who stood next to his motorcycle, spread-legged stance, radar gun to his eye, and just as I passed him, he walked out to the middle of the road and waved to the car behind me to pull over. I was genuinely impressed.

My husband has never gotten a speeding ticket, and he likes to bring up this point every time I tell him to slow down. He's been pulled over, I don't know, three? four times? Once we were picking some friends up from the airport and we got pulled over shortly after Rod made a wrong turn.

The officer asked his normal question: "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"60?" was my husband's innocent response.

"65. And do you know what the speed limit is here?"

"No, sir, I don't"

"It's 40."

Rod looked like he was about to puke. I was this close to searching the back seat for an empty paper bag or something, but I didn't want the cop to think I was reaching under the seat for my gat.

Long story short, the officer let us go after realizing we were lost. I could. Not. Believe it. It's like Rod has this magic ticket-deflecting aura around him.


My best story is that I was going 42 in a 30 and the lady-cop (whom I did not recognize) let me go saying, "I enjoy seeing you sing in church, so I don't want to give you a ticket." I thanked her and then the Lord.

When I told my friends at church, they were not impressed. "Well you're not a very good witness, are you?"




If I ever get pulled over again, I hope it's by an officer on foot. That is just so cool.