I like to think I should have been a race car driver. I like to put the petal to the metal and fly. Zoom…away I go. I was always told I was precious cargo.
When that adrenaline rush starts to pump through my body as I watch the odometer creep up, 80 mph, then 90, my heart beat starts to race with it, I can hear the thump thump thump in my ears, as the rush overwhelms every inch of me. The sunroof and windows are open, the music is rattling the car as the wind rips through my hair, 100 mph.
I look up to see flashing lights…FUCK.MY.LIFE. The rush is gone. Party is over. I am now reaching for my information, searching through my suitcase of a purse for my driver’s license. Tap. Tap. Tap. I roll my window half way down. “Ma’am, do you know what you did?” I am being asked this question like I am a child being punished. I smile slightly blushing, of course I know what I did. I was full blown adrenaline rush having myself a grand old time…. “yes”. I hand over my information. UGH! This is going to be one hell of a ticket…
This great build up and for nothing…story of my fucking life. Always happens…amazing build up, hitting the peak, and BOOM! Crash! Airbags deployed, bumper falls off, I go flying then I must analyze the scene, and of course there’s no fucking fluids. FML!
The officer comes back to my vehicle, taps on the window to announce his arrival, ticket in hand with all my information. I turn my face to look in his direction. My eyes are full of tears, some sliding down my face at this point, and giant snot bubbles lingering above my upper lip. He looks at me and says “fuck”, hands me everything as he runs back to his vehicle while saying “have a nice day”, yeah, you too…
I may not be a race car driver, I may not have fluids leaking from any of the right spots…damn I need a sex life…hahaha!!!
Sunshine and Sparkles!!