Fugitive Behavior

Yep. Fugitive. I clearly remember the police officer on the other end of the line threatening my reentry to the wonderful state of Utah; as in don't come back you are now considered a fugitive.

How I came to be such a thing? Oh a little dust storm on the plains of I-70 between my home state Colorado and the nemesis Utah. A little dust storm that involved another car and a semi crashing into me from behind. Yes and I was to blame, according to the Utah officer. Now you may scratch your head in wonder but there it is: Semi driver who nearly killed us all, probably given kool-aide, but the girl from Colorado, FUGITIVE.

Ok, this may have been the start of a series in which I've warred with traffic laws, usually those posted on white signs involving numbers. But I fully accept my punishment when appropriate. For nearly all of the six speeding tickets I acquired one year I calmly nodded my head when the condemning officer asked if I knew why I'd been pulled over. The one exception was the jerk who said I'd run a red light. I expressed my disapproval in traffic court when he kept bugging me to participate. As if I didn't have anything better to do that Saturday morning.

And so here it is, midnight on a Thursday, I'm pulling into my parking lot amazed that the flyers pinned to my windshield have survived the freeway trip home. Wait. That's not a flyer. The pink envelope suggests a violation of some sort. Wait there are two of them. Two tickets for a plate infraction dated exactly one minute and eight seconds apart. HOW?

The plate infraction is this—my tags looked expired. An officer was nice enough to pull me over six days ago to inform me. I informed him that the car is registered and the powder on doughnuts isn't for smoking.

I didn't tell him that. BUT I did produce my registration, proving my innocence. And now I will once again prepare for court to prove my innocence there.

As a fugitive I was also asked to appear in court. I had witness papers in a sealed envelope and the day off work for the venture to Moab. A few days before the scheduled appearance I received a letter saying the judge had thrown the case out.

The cops may hate me, but the law is on my side. Innocent.