Friday Confession: Speeding Cars, Lawyers and Me

The Friday Confessions are getting  more difficult for me.

The sad reality is that almost every misstep of mine has been well chronicled. I would be a miserable criminal, because were I to successfully rob a bank, I’d feel compelled to show you how.

Which brings me to my confession.

In my Junior year of college there was an impromptu road trip to Vegas. From Colorado.
Sadly, we’d decided to drive to Vegas the weekend before final exams. (Yes, I know…) Since my major was in the sciences I was mostly free and clear because our labs were project based. There was this one tough final, Abstract Mathematics.

As I was driving north on I-25 through Trinindad, CO we saw sirens. The officer pulled us over and gave me a ticket at an estimated 125 miles an hour. I was ridiculously polite and grateful that he opted against impounding the car, but I did ask him please to hurry so I could get to the Math Final on time.

Maybe not so smart?

When the summons arrived in the mail, I realized that they were going to try and suspend my drivers license. I could have called my father, who was still doing some criminal defense work at the time. But then he might get a little mad at me for playing blackjack instead of studying. Actually, maybe he’d be furious.

So I did what any lawyer’s kid would do. I called his only friend in the region and hired him. Why? Two reasons; I knew he’d defend me well and if I was his client then he couldn’t tell my Dad that I was busy being an ass and driving all around the country just to count a few cards in downtown Vegas.

The good news was that I’d won quite a bit that year, and I was able to pay my attorney. I kept my licence and my good driving record. I think there was divine intervention, because all these years later, it still makes no sense.

The bad news? My lawyer thought it was funny that I’d sassed the cop and gotten away with it. He told my Dad and then was all, “oh she didn’t tell you?”

Ugh, like I was gonna sue him for malpractice?

Sheesh.

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Comments 11

  1. An educated person is one who has the right loves and hatreds. We call this taste and with taste comes charm. Taste requires a capacity for thinking things through to the bottom,independence of judgment and an unwillingness to be bulldozed by any form of humbbug, social, academic, artistic or the like.
    By such measure( a stolen quote from I cannot rememeber who)you iz well larned !
    Love
    Dad

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  3. we decided at bar close on a saturday night (midnight was april 20th) that we wanted to spend “easter” on the beach. easter and 4/20 don’t collide very often.

    so we left columbia, mo, at 2 in the morning, headed for corpus christi. my roommate took over the wheel at the arkansas border, and i told him to wake me up when we were getting close to little rock so i could help navigate.

    he woke me up a few hours later when the sun was rising, and said, “hey, we keep driving and little rock is always like, 65 or 72 miles away.” he was on the wrong highway.

    “do you know where we are?”

    “um, not really.”

    we crest a hill. green sign. “Mephis 18 miles”.

    So we ended up in gulfport mississippi. and we smoked a lot of weed on the beach.

    at 6am on monday morning we stopped at a gas station in tennessee to call in sick. we both worked at the same company, so…obv. we got home around noon and drank margaritas until we passed out.

  4. Oh my god, what a life! Where’s the script? The lawyer’s kid who knows her lawyer can’t tell her dad — but then he does? I can’t believe you didn’t exact some sort of revenge, even if you couldn’t sue him… Hmmm, there’s still time.

  5. Do you think self pulishing and then having your dad leave the first funny comment would ruin the argument that there was a problem with the relationship?

    Hmmmmm.

  6. You crack me up! My confession…while on the way to Vegas when in college…I flashed a truck driver from out the car window. I know…white trashy…but I was 21 when it happened…did all sorts of crazy things then.

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