New Life, Part 2

So on the way home from Grandpa's funeral, I was speeding home trying to make a 1:30 appointment. Evidently, speeding 12 miles over the limit.

We passed a white car coming in the other direction, and Dena remarked "Hm, that car kinda looked like a cop car... it's tough to tell though." Twenty seconds later the flashing lights, now heading in the same direction as us, proved her right. "Hm, the guy in front of us was going faster," I commented, slowing down to let the car pass. Twenty seconds later, the lights now hugging my rear bumper proved me wrong.

With a solemn face, I answered the cop's questions.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"No," I said, in case there was something else the matter.

He explained that 10 miles over the limit is usually his cushion. Did I agree that I was going 67?

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I said resignedly.

"Do you have a reason for going so fast?"

"No," I said sadly. "In fact, I'm going from a funeral instead of to a funeral, so I don't even have a good excuse."

A couple of minutes later, he came back with my license, registration, and a bit of good news.

"I'm going to give you a verbal warning," he said. "I'm not even sure why, maybe because you're already having a bad day. If you'd a-said that you weren't going that fast, I'd have given you a citation."

Moral #1: Cop cars come in all colors
Moral #2: If you're wrong, admit it
Moral #3: If you're going to speed, stop off at a funeral first