clocked at 122.. gee, that was when i had slowed down

After a rough night, all you think about is shit, everything I had worked for didn't matter, what I lived for had dissapeared in my mind.. all I thought was.. "drive, keep driving and maybe you could fly away.." so thats what I attempted to do.

Inbetween Kinross and Clarkson I had managed to get up to 175km, then the car refused to go any higher, instead it stopped accelerating, as if I had my foot off the pedal.. after taking my foot off and putting it back down a few times I gave up, and slowed down, as I did I noticed someone standing at the side of the road, that someone was holding a radar gun and a flashlight. I didn't panic, instead U turned, and went back to see if my eyes told me the truth, and they had. Feeling even worse than before, I did another U turn and pulled over next to the upholders of the law.

"I know why you came back" said one of the officers with a slight grin on his face. I asked how fast I was going.. "you were clocked at 122k's, have you been drinking tonight?" I said no, but ofcourse he had to breathalize me. I walked back to the cop car with this officer, and his partner, an older teenager hater cop looked at me "what the fuck were you doing? do you want me to take your car off you or something?!" I looked him in the eye.. and unhappily answered "take it if you want, I know I did the wrong thing... I have been having some women problems tonight and I was unhappy"

The older officer went silent for a second and said "you were going 42 k's over, we are only aloud to take the car when your 45k's over, over 20k's is a $1000 fine"
"I feel guilty enough to give you the money right now, along with the car, after every stupid thing I've done I don't deserve to be in public at all"

the younger officer then found his breathalizer, told me how to do it. I wondered if he would say I was drinking anyway, I watched the screen as it said 0.00, the older officer asked if I was dirty, and the younger one said I was clean. "well, talk to him about it, he's the officer that caught you" said the older one, I turned to the younger one and he said "i'll let you off this time, but pull your head in, we are always here at this time so make sure you pull your head in even more when your here next time"
"ok.. are you sure?"
"yeah mate, just make sure you don't do it again.. whats your name?"
"James.. James Callison"
"Carlson?"
"no, Callison"
"ok, well go back to your car then.. thanks for coming back"
"whats your name?"
"huh?"
"whats your name?"
he told me his name.. but it was something that started with a P.. too hard for me to pronounce. with that I left. and now i'm here, talking to tim about the whole thing.

Most P platers wouldn't have gone back, but I did. Why? well not to try and talk my way out of losing my licence and getting a fine, All I went back for was a few reasons.. I wanted to see how fast I got clocked at, and I wanted to talk to them.. not to talk my way out, just to talk. I desperatly wanted to just chat with someone I didn't already know, face to face about absolutly random shit, even if it was someone who could have arrested me on the spot. Not all cops are evil or anything, theyre just every day blokes who drink beer and watch the footy, not the evil upholders of the law..

so yeah.. I now do the speed limit.. and have so much respect for that cop.. but i still feel like shit.