I have a lunch date with a friend. Sometimes it is important to drive away from my little piece of paradise and head right into the storm that I call Seattle. I grew up in the area and drove into the big city often; during my illness phase it was at often several times a week for hyperbaric treatment or trips to the trauma center. For a time I commuted through the city for work. Now, however, having lived here for eight years and having recovered physically, I find it very hard to drive there. Horns honk, fingers flail, cars cut in and out. I feel old. No longer am I comfortable zipping around on the motorcycle over there. I feel old. Often times I drive with my little blue "handicapped" placard hanging on the mirror. Does it give me a bit of extra space? That is my hope.
The other day I was driving out to check out a boarding facility. To get there I drove through a small reservation area. I noticed a police car parked in the normal radar spot and continued on. Soon I saw him following me. No big deal, I know I was doing nothing wrong. After about a mile or two the lights came on. Again, no big deal, right? "Do you know you have a tail light out?" sigh. I asked if it was the right side and he said it was. I told him I had thought I had fixed it, but apparently not. another sigh. "May I see your license and registration?" Of course. Proof of insurance? Not quite so easy. I have an expired card in there...the new one must be in the pile of mail on the table. ARGHH! So I begin a somewhat frantic search for it in all the nooks and crannies of my purse and the truck. However, I had failed to mention one teeny tiny thing. I have a CCP and likely he saw that as I was searching through all my cards. (I was not carrying that day, by the way.) He left to go to his car and call in the license and registration, or so I thought, as I continued my quest for my insurance card, which by then I was pretty sure was in an envelope on the dining room table. It wasn't until he came back and told me to be sure to get it into the car and wished me a good day, and I him, that I realized that there were now two more cars behind me. With all the mess that has gone on with police in the past four months I can hardly blame the guy for calling in help. So my lesson has been learned and I will mention the permit right away. I know if I am carrying that I need to tell them immediately and reveal the weapon, but didn't think about the permit possibly causing a bit of a stir. Then again, it comes back to the fact that since all was on the legal up and up, does that not put me in a safer category? Or could I become the psycho elderly lady that becomes violent when pulled over? At any rate I do feel bad for possibly unnerving the poor officer. So, I stopped at the auto parts store and replaced another bulb and I went home and found my insurance card.
Now I need to decide what to "wear" to the big city. The trip is further complicated by the fact that I am stopping to check out a bike on CraigsList. I will give the youngest a call and see if he is available...I would prefer to be armed with my tall handsome son today, I think.
So off I go. It's 9am, and I have been up for four hours. Is it lunch time yet?