Dealing With Father Issues While Getting A Speeding Ticket

Speeding? Is that really it? Or maybe the truth is, I wasn't going fast enough. Hmmm? There's always someone faster, isn't there officer? Someone you wished you'd pulled over. Someone who wouldn't be such an embarrassment? Someone who wouldn't be sitting here in his little hatchback on his way to his catering job, but driving a big truck on his way to the law firm or maybe back to the Marine barracks? Someone you could be proud of for once? But instead you got me. Well, I'm not responsible for that officer, you brought me to the side of the road, not the other way around, and at this point we both probably wish it had never happened, but I'm here, that's reality, and we have to deal with it.

And what comes next? You'll write me your little ticket and then you'll just disappear again and I won't see you for god knows how long until, once again, you just drop out of the sky to tell me about all the things I'm doing wrong and all the ways you know how I should fix them. Well, I have a news flash for you, officer, you're not so perfect yourself. Maybe I was speeding, but you didn't exactly look like you were out for a Sunday drive when you chased me down, so you might try getting off the high horse before you start talking about all the ways I've failed you.

And yes, I know I changed lanes without signaling. But did you see how many times I changed lanes and DID signal? How long I was driving UNDER the speed limit? Of course not, because you never see the good things I do, you just pay attention to the negative. And I'm sure when you get back to all your little friends, that's just the sort of stuff you'll tell them about me. You won't even mention that I was fifth in line for employee of the month last May, or that I'm applying to community college. You probably don't even know those things, do you officer? Of course not, because you never bother to ask, you just tell.

So fine, let's just get it over with. The truth is, I don't have the energy to hate you, officer. I've gotten to a pretty good place in my life by just forgetting that you exist. But you can't let it go at that, can you? It just burns you up to see me enjoying my life because I'm not doing it according to YOUR rules, YOUR hopes, YOUR dreams. And so you show up and make a spectacle out of things, just to remind me who's boss, just to try to bring me down. Well, if that's all you've got, then I feel sorry for you officer, I really do. Because I may be a speeder in a crappy car on my way to low paying job, but at least when I get there I'll be with people who care about me. And where will you be? Back in that little car. All alone. Waiting for someone else to fail so you don't have to think about the failure you've become. Mom was right about you, officer, you're are all the same.