Little Old Lady (Not) From Pasadena
If it happens once, it’s an anomaly.
Twice, it’s a curiosity.
Three times, and it earns a blog post.
— Karen’s philosophy on blogging.
The first time it happened, it was a lazy Saturday morning and I was on the highway named 280 traveling in a southward direction. The Good Man and I had just destroyed a stack of pancakes up at a restaurant in Millbrae, and were headed home.
I was behind the wheel, which is rare. The Good Man usually takes the wheel and I navigate (poorly).
We whistled along and were cussing and discussing something when I rounded a curve and lo and behold, there waited a member of that exclusive club, the CHP.
Instinctively, I touched the brake pedal to slow my roll, and as I did, I looked at my speedometer to see just how bad the ticket was going to be.
Turns out, I was going the speed limit. And my touching the brakes only slowed me to under the limit.
Oh. Well. That’s curious.
The second time I was driving across the great state of Georgia and I was singing along with the 80’s on 8 station on Sirius. The rental car was a Jeep and since I drive a Jeep back home, I felt pretty damn comfy in the car. The straight six has power and the Georgia highway was open and easy, begging me to test the bounds.
As I whipped past a slower car in the right lane, just as my wheels tap-tapped over the state line into Alabama, I saw the white cruiser in the median. One of Alabama’s finest was waiting there to nab speeders as they crossed over the border.
Again, I touched my brakes. Again, I looked at the speedometer to realize I had been going three over the speed limit of 70. Hardly enough for the Alabama man to get excited enough to leave the median.
Finally, the third event was just this weekend. Again on 280, this time headed to San Jose. Again a cruiser parked by the side of the road with a LIDAR gun aimed out the window. Again the brake pedal. Again, I was already in the legal zone.
What, exactly, has happened to me?
Once upon a time, I was quite a speed demon.
I was the girl who used to test what going 100mph felt like on the roads between El Paso and Carlsbad. (sssh, don’t tell my Mom)
I am the girl who used to get in trouble with her folks every time I came home from college because they would time me and I always arrived too early. (You’d think I would have figured it out and taken a lunch break somewhere to eat up some time)
This is the same chick that likes to race Mercedes up a hill. (My Jeep has pulling power, donchaknow).
And now I’m little Miss Goes The Speed Limit? Miss Little Old Lady Who Only Drives The Car To Church On Sunday? Little Miss Law Abider?
Except for one red light infraction two years ago on a no good, very bad day.
Suddenly going the speed limit seems, mostly, like the right pace for me.
This depresses me a little bit. But just a little.
Soon I’ll invest in an elongated sedan and I’ll use the cruise control and I’ll huff and puff about all those damn kids driving too fast.
Image from the Gilroy Dispatch