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Hi. I'm Alan. And I once had my drivers license suspended. Yes it's true. Your shining beacon of lawfulness (me, you dopes) once had his license taken away from him.
I was probably 19 or 20 years old. I was attending Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey - about an hours drive away from my parents house. And I had a 1967 Ford Mustang. Put these three factors together and you've got a recipe for trouble. The two hour round trip meant nothing to me. I had a great car and I loved to drive. The drive itself was about 10 minutes of local roads, 40 minutes of highway driving on I-287, and then another 10 minutes of local roads. And, obviously, that's in either direction (duh). I used to drive home from school all the time. Need to do laundry? Drive home. Never mind that it cost more in gas than it would to do my laundry. Need to see something on HBO? Drive home. Didn't matter that my parents had a VCR. Had an urge to read a book that I didn't bring to school? Drive home. Not that there were 3 huge libraries on campus or anything. To me it was like going to the corner store.
Now part of the problem was that because I had made this trip so often, I stopped paying attention. I sort of drove on auto-pilot. The location of all the speed traps were so ingrained in my subconscious that I just automatically slowed down when I reached that stretch of road. I think that must be how instinct and evolution and all that related crap must work. Do something enough times and it becomes a part of your subconscious. And then it gets passed on to all future generations. I think if I let Bobby drive that stretch of highway, he would automatically slow down in all the right places (Provided he could actually reach the brake pedal is slow down). Anyway, that part of the auto-pilot was good. But there was a downside to the auto-pilot phenomenon. For some reason, when I would get off the highway, to drive the 10 minutes of local roads, I stayed at near highway speeds. I've spoken about this with people before and they seem to know what I am talking about. There is a tendency to continue at highway speeds even after you've left the highway. Or, my friends could have just been nodding politely at my insane ramblings while slowly backing away. I'm not sure about that. And you might be doing the same thing while reading this. Don't back away too far though. For one thing, you won't be able to read your screen. Secondly, you might tip your chair over backwards and crack your head open on the floor. That would suck. For you.
So I think we've established the scene here. Punk kid, fast car, poor driving habits. It's all there. I wail off the highway exit ramp and drive about a mile and a half before having to stop at a red light. I'm sitting there peacefully, listening to some crap way too loud. It was probably Journey or maybe Van Halen. I look over at the car on my right and the driver and passenger of the car are pointing to the back of my car. Now, even in 1983 or 84, a 1967 Mustang was a cool car. I was used to people giving me little nods or "thumbs-up" regarding the car. So I nodded back politely to them. They pointed back again, a little more emphatically this time. So I look in my rear view and there are a pair of red and blue flashing lights. Hmmm, I wonder how long he's been back there? Well, I better pull over to let him pass me. But you are way ahead of me, gentle reader. He didn't pass me. He stayed right behind me as the light turned green. I pulled over for real this time wondering what was the problem. Remember - auto-pilot - people. We go through the standard "license, insurance and registration" thing. He was very polite. I don't remember much of this conversation (auto-pilot, anyone?). But I do remember him pointing out two things on the ticket. "57 in a 35" and "required court appearance".
The required court date is about a month later. So I drive back to my home town but go to the municipal court instead of to my parent's house. In fact, I haven't told my parents about this at all. It is my first ticket ever, so I figure "how bad can it be?". If you have ever been to a municipal court, it is at once the most interesting and also the most boring and depressing place imaginable. The whole procedure of how the judge, bailiff and various court official work is interesting. The stories and cases of some of the people are fascinating. But after three hours, a lot of the interest starts to wane. You can only hear about traffic violations for so long. The gentleman before my case had been speeding also. He had been going 42 miles over the posted speed limit. That made my 22 MPH difference pale in comparison. The guy had 6 previous moving violations. This was my first ticket. He was dressed in a pair of ratty blue jeans, some old work boots and a red flannel shirt. I was dressed in nice khaki pants, a button down shirt and pair of dress shoes. Man, I look like a nun compared to this guy. The judge went off on this guy saying things like "you will NOT drive through the streets of MY town at these speeds!" and "it is MY responsibility to remove your type of driver from the streets where MY family lives". It was a pretty impressive demonstration of a small town judge making himself feel important. He didn't have to yell. He could have just cut to the chase and given his judgement. After 10 minutes of lecture, he said "$300 fine, license suspended for 30 days!" Bam! came the gavel. Next case!
At that point, I wasn't sure what to expect. I figured all I was going to get was a fine - I just didn't know how much. And $300 dollars was a lot of money at that time, especially to a dorky college kid like me. There was no way I was going to get it as bad as THAT guy. I was very respectful and he asked me a series of questions about why I was speeding. I answered the best I could, saying that it was a lapse in judgement, that I certainly wasn't doing it on purpose, and that it would never happen again. I was nervous, but very respectful. He was quiet and subdued. So quiet that I had to lean in to hear him say, "$300 and license suspended for 30 days." Uh-oh.
In a daze, I walked up to the clerk in the front of the room. I wrote a check for $300 + $25 for "court costs". The check was for $78 more than I actually had in my account. I then turned over my license. Then I asked how exactly I was to get home. They said they could give me a piece of paper that would serve as a temporary license for a 3 hour period. Uh, ok. So I wandered out of the court, into my car and over to my parents house. By now it was after 11 PM, so I actually had to wake them up and explain everything. Thankfully, my parents are the most laid back two people in the world. I also had to ask them for $100 to cover the check. Mom and Dad were surprisingly calm about it - even the fact that the actual ticket had occurred over a month ago and why didn't I tell them then? I dashed (legally, of course) back down to Rutgers before my 3 hour license expired and I turned back into a pumpkin.
So I had to walk and take the campus buses for a month. It actually was good for me. It broke me of my weekly trips home. If I didn't have what I needed at school, I improvised or did without. In a weird way, I became more independent without my car. This story kind of went no where didn't it? Oh, well. You got a little glimpse of my younger days.
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