Anyone who’s ever driven on Old Mill Road probably knows the feeling. Good tune jamming on the radio, cruising on automatic pilot, pedal to the metal, not really tracking how fast you’re going until, suddenly, fast-approaching, flashing red and blue lights are in your rearview mirror.  Nothing stops a reverie faster.

What comes next is usually some utterance of a silent or spoken variation of, “Oh, fecal matter.” Your mind automatically skips to the haunting melody of “Bad Boy, Bad Boy, Watcha Gonna Do?” as you guide your car to the shoulder of the road, praying the officer takes mercy on you, wishing you’d worn your push-up bra (kidding, sort of), and hoping that none of your neighbors passes by. 

Well this very scenario recently unfolded with me, but on the George Washington Parkway this time. And naturally I had to have my teenage son (he of the new driver’s permit) with me to ensure that I will never, ever hear the end of it. 

I pulled over my vehicle, Officer Doogie Howser approached my open window and inquired, “Do you know how fast you were going?”  I so wanted to answer, “That’s a clown question, bro,” but in this transient area it’s hard to know who’s a Nats’ fan or not so I decided not to chance it with a hipster Bryce Harper reference.

Doogie asked for my driver’s license and proof of insurance.  In the process of retrieving my license from its incredibly tight compartment, I practically broke a finger and dislodged nearly every card in my wallet on to my lap, including my military ID card.  (What is up with that compartment?  Why is it always such a struggle to get the license out?  Who are wallet makers in collusion with?  Orthopedic surgeons?)

He took my items back to his squad car, did whatever he did to check my background, and when he reappeared, miracuously, only gave me a warning.  A warning! I hadn’t gotten one of those since leaving my 30’s behind. 

It was his sighting of my military ID that apparently did the trick as he, himself, had been in the Army and I was fortunate enough to catch him on a day where he was feeling particularly charitable and patriotic.  Yay me, for being all I can be. 

So, Patch readers, tell us about a time you got pulled over for speeding and only got a warning. What was your excuse, what did you tell or display for the officer that made him/her take it easy on you?  Or, do you just have a funny story involving an encounter with law enforcement?  We want to hear about it.