Isn’t it Ironic?

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After my third moving violation in a matter of months, I was a little concerned about the status of my driver’s license. Of course, that concern was nowhere near fear, considering I was on supervision for the first two violations and the woman I rear-ended promised not to go to court.

So on December 1, 2005, my mom’s birthday, I was on my way to traffic safety school. Mom told me to take the back roads and gave me directions on how to get there. I Googled it and found directions that took me on the Tollway. They were easier and faster. Except that I didn’t factor in rush hour on a highway that still wasn’t quite up to par.

So I was sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, hoping I would make it on time. I was incredibly glad that I had left early. Traffic seemed to be getting a little better, and my speed was increasing. One minute I’m driving about 20 miles an hour, the next minute, I’m slammed into the car in front of me. Which is slammed into the car in front of him. On. The. Way. To. Traffic. Safety. School.


So, I was bawling when I stumbled out of my car. My neck hurt a little, but the kicker was walking out and taking a good look at poor Melba Toast (the Explorer). The front end was so far dented in, that it looked like I wrapped it around a tree. This dent remained in my car until the day we junked it (in 2010).

The guy in the first car was fuming, and the guy in the middle car was sympathetically asking me if I was okay. I told him that I was fine, but I looked terrified. He took one look at the front of my car and the leaking beneath it before telling me to turn off my car and that I should not drive it.

I called my parents and told them the bad news, and that I would need someone to come pick me up. My mom (it was her birthday, by the way) was so pissed off that she could barely talk to me. Dad said he would come to get me, but made sure I knew how disappointed in me he was. And believe me when I say, no one was more disappointed in me than myself.

I had to call and reschedule traffic safety school. That was fun. The conversation went something like this:

“Hi, I am supposed to be in traffic safety school right now, but I’m not going to be able to make it.”

The lady on the phone asked me for my information, and then questioned, “And what is your reason for missing the course?”

“I, um, got into an accident.”

Dead. Silence.

A moment later, she recuperated with, “Okay, Christine, you’ll have to call the officer during business hours to reschedule. You’ll also need to make sure that you take the class by the last set date that your ticket allows. Until then, please drive safely.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

4 moving violations in almost as many months. Yikes. Am I going to lose my license? After some advice from friends and family, I consulted an attorney. For years after, every time I ran into her at the bars, she referred to me as her little speed demon.

For the rest of the story, you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, because yes…there’s more! I may or may not have had FIVE moving violations in six months.

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