Okay, so I was complaining about the police running radar in a new construction zone and within days, I get a ticket. My first ticket in seven years.
It was the day after my brother’s wedding, I was wearing my tux and everything, and I got pulled over in Kansas City.
38 in a 25.
I didn’t even look at the Speed Limit sign, I knew it couldn’t be less than 35.
I was wrong.
“You’re all dressed up,” the cop said.
“I know. I’m in town for my brother’s wedding. I’m not familiar with the area (load of crap). Do you have to give me a ticket?”
“Yes.”
Maybe things would’ve been different if I would’ve worn my low-cut tuxedo shirt.