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Sunday, February 27, 2011
Red light, green light
Marc and I have distinctly different driving styles.
I take the cautious and cowardly route while he goes for the challenge.
I get in trouble frequently while the angels oversee his careless moves.
For instance, I always try to turn right when I can to avoid having to cross traffic.
He drives right up to the busy five-lane road and expects to be able to get across.
What really ticks me off is that he usually gets away with it. The traffic flow stops and he gets a free pass to where he wants to go.
It's the same when it comes to speeding.
I really try to watch the speed limits, generally going at exactly or under what is posted.
He flies along, often on cruise control set at about 80 miles as hour.
I get pulled over and get tickets.
He gets warnings and finger waggings.
We once got stopped headed to the temple by an officer who noticed Marc was going 40 in a 25 mile-an-hour zone.
I waited in triumph for him to get a ticket (even though it would be paid out of our joint funds) because the week earlier I had been fined $90 for going 35 in a similar zone.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" asked the officer.
Marc shrugged and pointed at his suit and tie.
"We were headed to the temple," he said, looking up yonder to the Angel Moroni.
"Well, take it a little easier," the policeman said, handing back his license and registration. That's it?
It's quite aggravating to see him get away with his little sins while I pay fines and go to traffic schools.
Just yesterday, it happened again.
We were coming back from Spanish Fork after delivering a birthday gift. We were heading up the freeway alongside a Highway Patrol pickup truck. He was in the right-hand lane when Marc started to accelerate.
I was about to suggest he watch it when the guy "whoop-whooped" his siren.
I thought for sure we were hosed.
"You don't pass the police guy," I said not so nicely to my dear husband.
He blanched and slowed, waiting for what would surely come next.
But the policeman waved a warning and went off the freeway, leaving us to recognize we had been spared this time.
Marc couldn't believe his good luck, again! He's reliving the "whoop-whoop" in his head so I guess he's paying for his crime.
But for heaven's sake, I just think he's too darn lucky.