En route to school in the mornings, I have now become acquainted with seeing at least two civilian automobiles pulled over on the side of the road with Kirkland Police Department vehicles directly behind their back bumpers.
Watching the unfortunate business transactions between officer and civilian as a good driver shouldn’t do when behind the wheel, I am always intrigued by what act the unlucky drivers may have committed.
Since getting my license, I had always thought of myself as a “good” driver, for I did my best to follow the rules of the road and when I messed up, no one was there to scold me. Obviously this feeling was not meant to last forever.
The other evening I went out for a good healthy meal at McDonald’s fine-dining with two of my friends Kenny and Camille and ended up getting more than just French fries from my visit to the drive-thru.
I think the new Dodge Charger police cars are a big improvement over the old blue Fords they have been fighting crime with for years. The new cars give the department a great deal more visibility and seem to be … everywhere.
However, it isn’t so neat for one of the new black and whites to fill the entirety of your rear view mirror with its blue and red flashing lights. Such was the situation I found myself in last Friday night. It should be noted that the goal of every teenage driver is to avoid being on a first name basis with the local law enforcement; I had been successful in doing so up to this point.
As I took a right out of McDonald’s onto 124th and stopped at the red light, I found that I had not turned on my front lights, so I twisted the knob twice to the left and was ready to go on with my night.
Switching colors, the stoplight at the intersection changed to green and I continued my drive forward, but not before I was accompanied by the taunting music of a police siren behind me, alerting me to pull over to the side of the road and stop my car.
Turns out, an officer in a right hand turn lane on 85th Street had watched me turn on my lights and was suspicious of my behavior.
After handing him my license, registration, and insurance card, the officer informed me that my insurance card had expired. I pleaded with the officer and did my best to make him understand I was insured. Even Camille’s logical comment that since my dad is an attorney, of course I would be insured was not enough to sway the outcome.
Thus, I was rewarded by my cooperative efforts with the tangible reminder of my traffic infraction: a ticket. How disgruntled I was when I found my active insurance card in the same envelope I had pulled my registration out of.
In conclusion, my suggestion is that the next time you feel inclined to embark on a McDonald’s run, stay at home and open up a box of cereal.
Reporter intern Zach Shucklin is a senior at International Community School. Email Zach at email@example.com.