What a dumb, lucky bitch I am.
The other night I was driving Steven to my house from UCLA. The freeways weren’t empty, but everyone was going at a good speed.
Lately I’ve developed a new hobby of merging lanes quickly and at the last second to scare any passengers in my car.
As I was doing this, I asked Steven, “If I’m not surpassing the speed limit, what could I get in trouble for? Reckless driving?”
“Yeah.”
I laughed and then swore at a driver who got in my way. I passed him and quickly accelerated from 70 MPH through an empty stretch.
“Hey, I’m already approaching 80-“
Blue and red lights began flashing in my rearview mirror.
My heart began to pound, “…That was ironic. Steven, what do I do?”
“Pull over.”
“There’s nowhere to pull over. I think I should exit the freeway.”
We calmly discussed the best course of action. Despite our differing viewpoints, our voices remained level the entire time.
“Am I going to get a speeding ticket?”
“Yes.”
After what felt like an eternity, I finally found an opportunity to exit the freeway. I saw the policeman speed away on the freeway and shut his lights off.
Steven called up Sam and explained the situation. He assured us we got off with a warning.
I stayed surprisingly calm the entire time. Steven told me he was actually very proud of me for doing so.
I drove 60 MPH for the remaining thirty miles home.