C is for crime

I knew it would happen. It was only a matter of time, really, before my big break came. I just had to be patient, wait, bide my time, and eventually my shot at fame would fall into my lap. Because I wanted it. And if reality TV teaches us anything at all, it teaches us we all deserve anything as long as we want it badly enough. And after months, years really, of doing my part, waiting and wanting, it finally happened.

That's right, I'm famous. Sure, it's a fleeting fame, lasting for one night only, but that's enough for me. I'm sure it will be a stepping stone to bigger and better things. If you want to see me in all my glory (and by glory I mean sans makeup, hair unbrushed, snotty, crying baby at my side), all you need to do is tune in to Live 5 news tonight. Because there I will be, larger than life (and with more pores, I'm sure), realizing my dream of a life less ordinary.

For you see, today I was caught in the Live 5 news speed trap by the "speed patrol." Yes, indeed, while going about my morning errands, as I talked on the phone to the missionaries and tried to calm my crying, hungry baby on the way to getting my "low tire" light checked at a local gas station, I apparently went 34 in a 25 mph zone. How do I know this? The burly sheriff informed me of my infraction after he stepped out into the middle of the road and pulled me over. And as soon as he went to go write my ticket, the pretty young brunette in a wool pencil skirt and perfectly pressed blouse came over with her cameraman to repeat my offense for me, in case it hadn't registered.

Perkily: "You've been caught in the Live 5 speed trap! Do you know how fast you were going?"
Humorlessly: "He said 34."
Undeterred: "Do you know the speed limit?"
With even less enthusiasm: "He said 25."
With false warmth: "Do you come this way often?"
Stumbling for words in front of the camera: "Not that often."
Accusingly: "Is it a cut through for you?"
Indignantly: "No, I'm on my way to the gas station to have my low tire light checked out."
Sternly: "Did you know the speed limit?"
Slightly sarcastically: "No, apparently not."
Smilingly: "What speed will you drive next time you drive here?"
Tiredly: "Well, I'll drive the speed limit."
Archly: "Which is...."
Flatly: "25."
Wrapping up and perkily once more: "Good! You're going to be here a while so just relax. Oh, cute baby. [to the cameraman] Get the baby, too!"

Several minutes later, the sheriff was back with my $81 ticket and my court date and the helpful information that I could bring my baby to the court (thank you very much). As he talked to me and I put away the citation and my wallet, the cameraman continued filming through the windshield, in case I started to cry, I suppose.

Good thing I was so very ready for my close-up!