Last week I began fighting what I thought was merely a cold.
My sore throat and sneezing were frustrating symptoms but nothing to keep me home from work. By Wednesday afternoon, I was practically coughing up my lungs, my ears were burning like fire, and I literally had lost my voice. The power went out in the entire town of Piedmont around 4pm so we closed the office and I slowly headed home.
With my dignity slowly falling apart (you can only sneeze in front of so many clients without them raising an eyebrow), I decided to call in sick on Thursday morning and make a trip to the doctor.
I should have realized that as much trouble as it took me to GET to the doctor- that the rest of my week was simply going to be a laughing matter.
My appointment was at 11:15. I decided to arrive 15 minutes earlier so that I could possibly skip a late person or to get rid of the always-present paperwork I might have to fill out. When I pulled into the parking lot of the office, I knew something was amiss.
There were no cars in sight. None. Not even near the back door where all the doctors sneak in to avoid patients. I pulled around to the front to find a large sign taped to the front doors. Muttering furiously under my breath, I crawled out of my car and staggered to read the sign.
“Our new office is located at such-and-such street near blah-blah-blah.”
Drat. A new office. I pulled out of the parking lot and took a route somewhat unfamiliar to me.
While driving 49mph, because I thought that any decent and civilized route should have a speed limit of at least 45 or 50mph (and a 5 mph difference doesn’t matter to God, right?), I suddenly rounded a curve and saw a police officer traveling towards me. I wasn’t sure of the speed limit and so I tapped my breaks a bit and gave him a nice southern smile that all mothers should teach their daughters.
However, maybe mothers should teach their daughters how to drive slower because the smile didn’t work. Officer so-and-so flipped his car around, began a blue-light special, and pulled in behind my car.
He was a kind man, just doing his job, but I was a sick woman and already late for my appointment. He tried to make light of the situation but after I showed him my bag of cough drops and my box of tissues he just said that he’d lower my fine as much as possible.
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On my drive home this afternoon, my cell phone rang.
My mom asked how I was doing in a very sober tone of voice, questioned me about a few other things and then said, “We just received a phone call from the Easley Police Department. The call was for you.”
“Oh? What did they want?”
“Well, it will be best if you just call them back.”
Anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach, I asked her just to tell me what was going on. She laughed and then proceeded to give me some splendid news.
My dad’s cousin, Debbie, is a police officer with that department and she came across the record of my ticket this afternoon. With a smirk, she approached the officer who stopped me and asked if he knew who he’d pulled over. He apologized profusely and swore to dismiss my ticket.