Yes, by the cops. The po-po's. The po-lice man.
Pulled over.
When I saw the blue lights, I checked my speed. Nope, not speeding. Much, anyway. I was doing a steady 50 in a 45. Okay...
So maybe it was my windows. I mean, I've been pulled over for them before (never in Tennessee, always in Virginia, but I digress...). They are a wee bit too dark, but is that really something to be concerned about??
Anywho, being the good, law-abiding citizen I am (can I say that right now when I clearly just admitted to breaking two laws?), I pulled over, rolled down my window, and got out my license and proof of insurance (both sit side by side in my wallet). The nice police officer (he actually was super nice) comes up to my window and asks for my license. I hand it over. He starts to walk back to his cruiser, but then he stops.
He kinda looks at me funny. He looks down at my license. My hands are shaking, and I have profuse diaphoresis (for the world outside of med school, that means I'm sweatin' like a ho in church... I won't get started on the topic of med school language...). I'm going to jail, folks. That's it. I'm going to jail. Probably because my license picture is hideous. Or maybe because I didn't wash my hair that morning. Whatever it is, I'm going to jail (anyone else have this intense fear of cops??).
He steps back up to my window and asks if I know why I got pulled over.
Okay, does anyone ever say they know why? I could have been going 30 miles over the speed limit and I would have looked at him and said, "No, sir."
Now the first thing you need to understand is that I hate creepy crawlies. The more legs something has, the more I hate it.
Snakes = no legs = not too scared. I can coexist with snakes. Live in harmony. They really don't bother me.
Humans = two legs = a little scared. I can coexist with most humans. Tolerance, people.
Gators = four legs = a bit scared. I wouldn't like it if there was a gator crawling through my living room right now.
Ladybugs/flies/termites = six legs. Hate 'em. They are gross, and I wouldn't mind if I never saw another.
Spiders = eight legs. Enough to make me lose control of my sphincters.
Centipedes = 100 legs. I will stroke out.
So now that you've got that down, just imagine...
I'm driving to school on a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun is shining, there isn't a cloud in site, but I am tired. Dog tired. I have an exam in two days, and my stress levels are higher than the US debt.
I see something moving down toward my right leg. I look down. It is a SPIDER hanging off my windshield wiper bar. It is
I freak out. Panic. Hyperventilate. Almost black out. How am I going to get out of my car when it's traveling 50 mph down the road and my seat belt is buckled and this is a disaster. Chernobyl-sized.
So I use my doctor skills and think fast (okay, maybe not doctor skills, but I'd like to think this was some good thinking on my part). I grab my phone from the cup holder and hold it under the spider. At this point, the spider is mere inches away from my skin. I'm literally about to pass out.
I finally get it to land on my phone, and then I take my phone, turn it over, and start beating it against the dash. I mean I'm hitting my phone so hard against my dash that I don't know how I didn't crack my phone or the dash.
At the end of it all, the spider was successfully killed. And I was probably mere inches from my death if the spider touched me.
Anywho, back to the cop. He proceeds to tell me I was swerving. Swerving. Yes, swerving.
I opened my mouth to tell him what happened, but he says, "I don't really know what's going on--maybe you're just tired?" I take the beautiful, heaven-sent escape route and say, "Yeah, I'm just soooo tired. (Fake yawn... No, really, I fake yawned. What can I say? I didn't major in theater.) I just have a test on Monday (not a lie), and school is so crazy, and I'm just exhausted."
He proceeds to give me a look like, "You poor little dumb girl, you probably have to study for your remedial math 90 class that you've taken 100 times." I take it, trying my hardest to look dumb, dumb, dumb. He hands me back my license, gives me a speech about how I need to get a good night's sleep before I drive because it can be dangerous, and tells me to be careful on the way to school.
Yeah, as long as terrorists don't put any more gargantuan spiders in my car, we'll be cool.
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