…has ridiculous insurance rates.
And gets to meet a very charming motorcop.
Just a couple weeks ago, I was sitting in one of my spots and I stopped a gentleman for exceeding the posted speed limit. He was 16 miles over in a residential area. He was polite and we went our separate ways quickly. Him having signed the promise to appear (the softer, gentler term for ticket) and me with another stat in my pocket.
Not twenty minutes later, I met his better, if not faster, half.While 16 over the posted speed is moving at a decent clip, she was 22 over. Not so bad when you think of your typical freeway speeds, but pretty egregious when it’s a 25 mph zone. I did my usual “Do you know why I stopped you” and “Can I see your license, registration and insurance, please” rigamarole.
It wasn’t until I had her license in hand the I saw the last name and the address. Now, I don’t claim to have the memory of an elephant, but I’d be pretty hard up if I couldn’t recognize two folks with the same last name and address inside of ten minutes of one another.
I wrote out her ticket and walked back to her car.
MC: Afraid I have more bad news for you, Mrs. Gonzales.
Mrs. G: What’s that?
MC: Seems it’s been a bad day for the Gonzales clan. I met Mr. Gonzales about ten minutes ago. He was speeding as well…just not as fast as you.
Lucky for the Gonzales’s neither of them had been to traffic school in the last 18 months, so they dodged a pretty big insurance bullet with that one.
But they made me smile. So there’s that.















