It’s no secret that when I was indulging in the sauce, I had my fair share of run-ins with the law. I used to hate driving because I was drunk almost anytime I sat in the driver’s seat. I spent more time looking into my rearview mirror than ahead of me.
After I got sober and got my driver’s license back, I had this indescribable feeling of freedom when I would hit the road. I would pass cops and instinctively go on mental defensive. Then I would remember, “I’m sober. I’m not doing anything wrong. The only thing I’m guilty of is being awesome.”
About two or three months after drying out, I went through a sobriety check point. It was great. I pulled up to the check point, and when the officer asked how much I had been drinking, I got to truthfully say, “I don’t drink officer.” It was the first time in years that I had been 100% truthful to a cop. It felt great.
I remember telling friends that I actually wanted to be pulled over at some point. I wanted to know what it felt like to have a cop behind me and not have to worry about what I was going to say or how I should act.
Last night, I was the lucky winner of such a traffic stop. Meggie and I were driving back to Fredericksburg. I turned onto the Falmouth Bridge, and the next thing I knew, there were the blue lights in my rear-view. I raced to think why I was being pulled over. Meggie went through a list of reasons: “Are your tail lights out?” “Did you get your new tags?” Shit. I had completely forgotten to update my registration last month.
I pulled off the road. The cop asked me if I knew why I was being pulled over, and I told him I just realized that I had forgotten to update my tags. It felt good to once again speak honestly to the cop.
The cop had a bit of a prickish attitude, but he wasn’t that bad. He gave me my ticket and wished me well. I wanted to tell him I liked his moustache and that I wanted one, but I wasn’t sure if that cop liked jokes.
It felt good not freaking out.
- David C. Garcia