Speed limit optional

When I reflect on my life, I realize I've grown and changed in so many ways (all good - mostly...). During my high school days, I always said I don't want to drive, I don't need to drive. That was kind of crazy as I grew up in an area where you HAD to drive to get anywhere, do anything, or get to work. My theory was that I would move to the city and public transit would be all I needed to get around.

That was how I entered my 20s, but that quickly changed. There was no reason for the change. Gene (boyfriend then, husband now) had his license but no car. Eventually, he got a car, followed shortly by me getting my permit. In typical fashion, we did things backwards and not the normal way. We purchased a brand new SUV before I actually passed my driver's test. Nervous about taking the test and passing the parallel parking, I opted to use the car I learned to drive in. Fancy new car sitting at home—go with what you know to guarantee a pass! I can parallel park, even though we no longer live in the city. I am much better at parallel parking on the right side versus the left, which is mind-boggling.

Gene - God love him, taught me to drive. I am hard-headed and resist learning new things sometimes. He has the patience of a saint, so somehow we both survived the teaching/learning part of me driving. (Now, he critiques my driving and it's always a fight...) Gene is what I call the Grandpa driver, although he says that's just when his most prized possession is in the car (that would be me). I, on the other hand, fall right into the speed demon category. Speed limits are meant to be broken & are just a recommendation, right!?

In all the years I've been driving, I can count on multiple hands the number of times I've been pulled over. As for tickets for speeding or other driving violations - they can still be counted on one hand... but it's getting close to needing two hands. I jokingly say that it's my pretty face that gets me out of the tickets. Truth be told - I have no idea how I get out of them. When they ask, "Do you know why I pulled you over?" I don't even attempt to lie. "I was most likely speeding," is what I say. Let's face it - I know I was speeding, they caught me, why fight it? I've gotten off with a verbal warning when my license should have been revoked. I've been told, "Alright - slow down, be careful, watch the speed trap next town over. You have people with you, slow down so you all make it where you're going."

I got pulled over in October or November 2025. For, you guessed it - speeding. No surprise there. The surprise is I never saw the cop and still can't figure out exactly where he was sitting. While I was absolutely in the wrong, the guy that pulled me over I pegged as young, new to the force with something to prove, and a bit of a dick. He had an attitude, which is whatever, but don't take your attitude out on me because I was speeding and you had to do your job. If it's that much of an inconvenience, don't pull me over. At any rate, I admitted I was speeding, he "played" nice and wrote me a ticket for lower than the speed he said I was going. No biggie here... read on for the biggie....

I didn't want to tell Gene about this speeding ticket; he covers all of my expenses, and I didn't want the speech about slowing down.

My life continues - I forget about the ticket - typical. I'm really not the most responsible adult sometimes... I got a notice that I was getting a letter from the borough - (thank you, Informed Delivery USPS). I snagged the letter before Gene saw it, which prompted me to

go pay my ticket at the borough hall (hello small-town living!). To be told I had to pay with cash, check, or money order. Credit cards and debit cards not accepted. Which I have lots of feelings about... for another post. So I leave after they tell me I can pay online with a card or come back with cash. Such an inconvenience since I'm there ready to pay - but not with cash or check. I leave and head to work, where I promptly forget about said ticket.

A few weeks later, PennDot sent a letter that Gene intercepted and read. He said it seemed like I was being scammed, as the letter stated my license would be revoked on a date in January (that is escaping me now) due to an unpaid moving violation. Naturally, I said, "Oh, that's not a scam. There is an unpaid moving violation. I'll pay it when I get home." Which didn't happen—it got forgotten yet again, never to be thought of again, until...

It's 2 weeks before Christmas, I'm home working on some last-minute crafting gifts, with 21 cats milling around helping me. It was unseasonably warm, so I have the front door open. When there's a knock at the door, of all the possible people it could have been, I would not have guessed—the Constable, asking for me by name. I have a moment of panic—WTF have I done? I've not done anything to have the Constable on my front porch (at least that I can recall). He says don't panic—it's nothing major. To which I laugh and invite him in. His "nothing major"—a bench warrant, for yours truly. What for? That speeding ticket I wanted to keep Gene from finding out about. So Gene's upstairs working, and I quickly explain this to the Constable and say I'd love to get this taken care of before he realizes you are here for this ticket. We laugh about the situation, I sign off that yes, I am guilty of speeding. The last thing I have to do is pay, which now includes court fees and Constable fees for serving the bench warrant. Payable by—you guessed it—cash or check only! FFS, again—my money is in an account I don't have checks for, but have a debit card to. As he's explaining to me I have 14 days to pay (which is Christmas Eve), otherwise his next visit will be a little different, involving the handcuffs—Gene makes his grand appearance downstairs. I'm dead at this point. How has a speeding ticket gotten so out of hand?!?!

At which point I tell Gene what's going on. At which point, Gene says he wants a refund on his marriage as this is not what he signed up for. Can't say I blame him - I take the blame for all his stress and gray hairs! But he also proceeds to tell the Constable that next time, just come in and take me. Don't let the cats out or harm them in the process. That, my friends, is true love.

I did get the ticket paid - the same day the constable came to my door. Moral of the story - always carry cash or a checkbook, especially if you have to pay a small town or borough for anything.

Till our tails cross again,

Melanie