Eventually I pulled into a parking lot and he pulled in behind.
The officer could not have been kinder. He told me I was driving 15 miles over the speed limit and then went on to explain that the speed limit went down several blocks behind where we were on the street.
I told him I knew that because "I live right there" pointing to the brick wall in front of us. He very kindly asked for my driver's license, then disappeared back into his cruiser. When he returned he handed back the license and told me to have a good day.
No ticket! But here's the thing: I broke the law. I was speeding. He knew that but still let me go.
As you know, my Meniere's Disease causes panic attacks from time to time. So how was I feeling thoughout this whole process, from the whirling lights to the "Have a good day?"
I felt great. I felt grateful. After checking to see if I had a record, the officer congratulated me for my pristine driving history. At that point I did have to confess that I had received a speeding ticket in the past - precisely - in 1972.
Since I was speeding yesterday I totally broke the law, but, by the grace of this young, kind, African American police officer, I was not charged.
The only thing that could have riled me up would have been if he let me go because I was just a little old lady driving a Camry. In that case I would have had to demand that I get the ticket and things would have gotten all weird.
But I wasn't getting that vibe. He gave me Grace.
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