The Escape Artist

I should probably preface this entry by saying that my dad called me yesterday to say, “Dayna. I’ve got your next blog.” Little did he know, I already had this idea in the back of my mind…but yesterday’s events were kind of the cherry on top of the sundae (I think that’s the phrase).

Since my mom was my age, probably even before that, she has always had a way with people. She’s a talker. Small talk, short stories, long stories, it doesn’t matter. She can talk with strangers or friends or family. I did not get that gene. I only talk to people I know well. I’ve never been good at the whole small talk thing. Apparently this is a skill you can learn, I haven’t accomplished that yet.

My mom is also charming. So, mix charm and a whole lot of talk and what do you get? A get out of ticket free card!

2 Weeks Ago:
Mom: I got pulled over by a police officer this morning at 4:30.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh. You finally got a ticket! What did you do?
Mom: No. I did not. He pulled me and over and when he came to the window I said, “Are you okay?” He thought that was funny. But honestly, he was acting really weird when he pulled me over.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh.
Mom: Yeah. So he said, “Do you not use signals?” and I said, “Not at 4:30 in the morning.” So he wanted my ID but I couldn’t get it out of my wallet and I told him I was going to the hospital and that I had a headache. He asked if I was going to the hospital for the headache and I said, “Silly! I work there.” Anyway. He said forget the ticket. He just looked at my name badge and said I could leave.
Me: If I had pulled you over and you started talking like that, I would have given you a Breathalyzer.
Mom: I know! Anyway. I just kept thinking I’m glad he didn’t see me driving down the road and treating red lights like stop signs.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh. Why were you changing lanes that early anyway?
Mom: It’s not my fault that some 75-year-old woman was driving in front of me. I wasn’t putting up with that.

Yesterday…While on the phone with me….
Mom: Oh. Just a second, some police officer is waving at me. “What? Oops. I’m sorry. I’ll slow down.”
Me: Wait. What just happened?
Mom: Oh. This officer was waving at me and I yelled out the window what and he said the speed limit was 25 and I was going 35.
Me: Did you stop?
Mom: No. I just said sorry and kept going. I’m watching him out of the mirror. He’s just laughing.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh. Wow. Okay. This is ridiculous. Anyone else would have gotten a ticket. I think you’re a little escape artist!
Mom: Yep. Record is still clean!

I should add that I think my dad holds a lot of resentment about these events...his driving record is not too pretty (Always the speed traps).