Speeding

Work, a place that I usually enjoy spending a few hours of my day, had royally pissed me off that day. Dealing with lazy people has never been a situation I handle politely. Someone else’s slack was blamed on me and I, too, had to do their job. All the while my manager chose to nag at me only causing my frustration to flare at the situation. Leaving the store, I tore out of the parking-lot, and headed to my friend’s house. 15 miles passed very quickly but the driving helped to get my mind off of the situation. My friend informed me when I arrived that we couldn’t stay there because his family was going out. Just adding to my anger, I couldn’t help but think, “Oh great, now we get to go back to my house and deal with people arguing the entire night.” Home seemed to be a place that as a family, all we did was argue. The dense odor of burning rubber filled the air, as the rpm’s redline, and the engine roars. Faster and faster, the speedometer climbed, as the g-forces from the phenomenal 525 horsepower of a 6.1 liter Hemi were freed from within the beast. The tone of the engine, rattling my ear drums, I pushed the pedal even further, feeling – what I thought was impossible at the time – an even stronger force coming from what felt like an entity trying to push me back through my seat. A bright light to my right, lit up the interior of the car, nearly making my heart skip a beat, my adrenaline jumped, as my eyes left the dark scenery, ever so quickly passing. My eyes quickly adjusted to the lit interior, only to find my friend Kody, texting up a storm. Adjusting my attention back to the now, “solid” yellow line, it seemed that there were only three things that existed in that moment – me, the car, and the road – The trees and small, abandoned buildings about a quarter mile off the side of the road turned to a blur, forming a pseudo-wall on both sides of the vehicle. A flash caught my eye in the rear view mirror, again, making my adrenaline spike, only to realize that it was merely a car overcoming the hill that we had just seemingly floated over. The car behind us quickly disappeared in the distance, as we approaching the next town extremely fast. Letting off the accelerator, the car slowed to what seemed like a crawl. Rolling by the building I had left so angrily about 20 minutes before hand, instantly enraged me again - As I sped out of town. Knowing that there was no possible way I would be able to deal with my siblings and parents arguing, on top of my frustration from work, I had decided to head back the way I had just come from, but a little further. As the town my friend lived in, passed as quickly as it came before, I pushed the car even further. The speedometer now reading 145 mph! Every bump we hit, the car felt as if it were lifting off the ground. My hands gripping the steering wheel, tighter and tighter, I began to slow down, in fear of getting caught and as my anger dissipated. Letting my foot off the pedal, the speedometer slowly went down. 90 miles per hour is what the speedometer read when I was startled again by a flash of light, only this time there was more than just headlights, or a cell phone lighting up the vehicle. This time, there were not only headlights, but red and blue lights as well. I checked all three of my mirrors in a feverish manner, in disbelief of what was at hand. I was getting pulled over for the first time, after almost three years of obtaining my license just after my 16th birthday. I instantaneously began to slow down as the lights grew closer, until they seemed as if they were mounted on my hatch when I was pulled over in a random driveway. I nervously scavenged around the glove-box, searching for registration to the vehicle, attempting to be prepared for anything the officer asked for. It felt like an eternity before the officer left his vehicle, giving me plenty of time to turn down the music, and to gather my nerves before speaking to him. He tapped on the window with his flashlight, and I rolled down the window. “License and Registration." Please.” He announced in a firm voice. As I handed him the registration, he interrupted me, demanding my license too. He left, back to his car, obviously running my name through all the government databases and checking my empty criminal history. As he was on his way back to my car, a second officer pulled up, and he turned around to consult with the other. At this point, a million things were flying through my head, was it just because of Kody' Was it because it wasn’t my vehicle' Was it because of something completely irrelevant to the situation' Or could it be because I was going to be going to jail' The first officer then returned to my car, saying hello to my passenger. Baffled, I was again, wondering what was going on. Kody replied, “Hi, Jeff.” Realizing that Kody knew the officer, I began to think that I could possibly get off with a warning. The officer then asked if I knew what the speed limit was about a mile back, and I answered with uncertainty that it was probably 55 miles per hour. Being informed that it was unfortunately only 40 my heart seemingly exploded. Then he proceeded to ask me what I was doing with this vehicle. After explaining my situation and why I was driving a vehicle that was not mine, he said that if it were not for the second officer stopping, he would not have given me a ticket because of my clean criminal and driving history but he had to issue one now. Cutting me what slack he could, the officer had filled out the potential wreck-less driving ticket of an 87 mph in a 40, as a 67 in a 40. In that moment my nerves had finally calmed, and I could breathe normally again. As he was explaining the ticket, I could only wonder about how I was going to keep this from my parents until it was paid' Luckily, I was in Illinois, and not Indiana where my ticket would have been three times as much, and the mandatory driver’s safety course is a one month course. The officer then gave me his personal phone number to call if I had any questions about how to go about paying my ticket, and asked me to pull out of the driveway in-front of him. As I made a three point turn-around, I pulled out onto the county road, as a car headed the opposite direction passed with a blur as the cop’s lights came on in sync with the sharp turn of his car. My night had just ended, in almost the same exact fashion as it felt like it had just began – the red and blue lights startled me, but this time they were headed the opposite direction as before. At the end of the night, the situation ran through my head repetitively until I realized what had caused this mess - stress. I didn’t realize at the time that my stress from work was determining the way I drove. I learned from my mistake of driving under substantial stress in many ways. My $95.00 ticket and driver’s safety course were one way as well as having to explain to my dad what I had been doing with his brand new car. To this day, every time I get into a car and I am feeling stressed, I think of this event that seemed to take hours of my life. Every time I’m speeding and don’t realize it, I can’t help but look around nervously in the search for a cop or red and blue lights. Honestly, the ticket itself does not stop me from speeding, but it is always in the back of my head. Having a “lead foot” is something that I have learned to deal with and adjust my driving habits to. After this incident, I don’t ever see myself forgetting it, but I’m sure there are more to come that will probably exceed the “importance” of this ticket. Ultimately I learned that driving under stress was not only a risk for me, but I was also putting other people in danger because my attention was not fully directed towards the task at hand. Overall, the worst part of getting pulled over was explaining to my parents what I was doing going that fast in that speed limit. From my experience, I’ve learned not to “stress n’ drive”