So here is the story. I was at my parent’s house when a friend dropped of a full new set of knives for them including a sharpener. My mom pulled out the old knives and we made sure they were good and sharp before I selected the few that were to be handed down. I left that night thinking how I was going to carry four knives a purse, my duffel from the club, control the dog on a leash, and have a hand to work the key chain once I get home? So with a strike of brilliance I threw the knives in my purse jumped in the car tossing the purse on the front seat. After all things and creatures were secured inside the vehicle I was on my way. I went through Anoka were the main road has an unreasonably low speed limit not meant for anyone to follow so I didn’t. As I watched a cop put out onto the main drag behind me I knew I was in for it. Not that I didn’t deserve it but that I finally got caught. Once he put his lights on I pulled off onto a side road, I hate that when people stop on the busy street impeding all the rest of traffic, right next to a Walgreens.
He walked over to the window that I had already rolled down and I was leaning over to get my insurance when he asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Can someone tell me why they ask such asinine questions?? What the heck does it matter what I think anyway? Clearly I think the speed limit is too low but he’s not asking me that!!! Anyway, with the idiotic questioning out of the way he asked that I produce my license and insurance. No problem, I handed him the insurance and then thrust my hand into my purse to grab my wallet but was instead met with the knives. As soon as contact was made my hand sprung back out and I grabbed it and squeezed hoping to stop the bleeding I knew was there. I had to explain the situation to the officer who responded, “Maybe you should put them on the floor.” I said that was good counsel and I was sure my finger wasn’t so bad but when I held my hand up to see how bad the cut really was the blood was dripping down my hand. It looked REALLY bad. I continued in a gimpy fashion to get a hold of my wallet and hand him my I.D. He said he would be right back and started walking toward his squad. I stuck my head out and said, “While you are back there can you grab a band aid please.” I mean if a cop didn’t have one in his car who would, right?
He came back after such a length of time that I was sure he had not only written a ticket but taken the time to edit it a few times. He said that the smallest band aid he had was twice the size of his own hand but, and get this, he was not going to give me a ticket so I should take the money and go into Walgreens and buy one.
Isn’t that funny?? He must have felt really bad for me. When all was said and done and I got a chance to actually look at the big slice in my finger, it was tiny and I mean TINY. It was probably smaller than the paper cut I got earlier this week.
When people say that God works in mysterious ways that is no joke. I was doing 42 in a 30. To my credit I thought I was going 40 in a 35 still the ticket would have been between $180-$220. Praise God for saving me from myself, again.
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