I was running late to work driving down the main road through town, cussing at every person who was driving slowly. And, by slowly, I mean probably the actual speed limit. "Shit! Get out of my way!," to literally every person on the road. It's not like I get in trouble if I'm late, in fact I keep my own schedule, but today I had meetings and really needed to prepare for them before they actually started. I do this to myself; waking up, taking a shower, then sitting on the edge of my bed, wrapped up in my towel, and lost to the world. It feels like a minute or two, but clearly time moves faster than I think it does!
I was nearly to the freeway, which thankfully looked like it was moving smoothly, when I saw the lights in my rearview. My legs went tingly, and the feeling of dread passed through me. Yes, that was a cop behind me. I pulled over to the right, but there wasn't much of a shoulder. The officer parked somewhat at a diagonal to block the full right lane. I knew it was for our protection, but it felt a little like I was on display, highlighting my bad behavior. It seemed like every person in town slowed and took a look at me. I'm sure some of them were feeling quite righteous in seeing me get the karma I deserved, having tailgated them until I could pass. The feeling of rushing to not be late turned to feelings of wishing this officer would hurry up so the feelings of shame and embarrassment would be over! I opened my phone and scrolled through my photos to my insurance card and went ahead and pulled my license out of my wallet to maybe speed up the process.
I saw in my side mirror the officer walking up, so I set my phone in my lap, lowered the window, and placed both hands on the wheel, still holding my license in my right hand.
"Ma'am. Good morning. Sure is a beautiful day, isn't it?"
I looked up at him as if he were the dumbest man on the planet, until it registered just what I was seeing. Oh my. Gear on gear at the waist and attached to the bulletproof vest officers are required, and frankly need, to be wearing these days. Even though he was in a vest with all that gear, I could tell there was a fit man underneath it. His uniform shirt gathered just the right way at his belt and he made carrying that vest look effortless on his broad chest. He wasn't one of those muscle-bound gym rat looking guys, but there was no doubt that the muscle tone in his arms was achieved by a daily workout. His last name was embroidered on the chest of his uniform opposite of his badge. My eyes settled on a red light in the middle of his chest and I realized I was looking at his body worn camera. My face flushed with embarrassment. Here I am - in just moments - going from anxious and annoyed, to overwhelmed by the masculinity in front of me, and he has every second of it recorded for others to see!
I stumbled over the words, "Yes, a great day to be pulled over." as I looked up at his face. He had a chiseled jaw line, shaved clean, and his Ray-Ban aviators sat perfectly across his face. I tried to not be influenced by my attraction, but it was quickly overriding the self-loathing of being pulled over.
"Ma'am, I don't like to pull people over, especially when everyone is on their way to work, but you were speeding and your taillight is out. I can overlook the speeding, but if I didn't stop to tell you your taillight was out, how would you ever know?" He smiled, and the lines around his mouth deepened like long dimples and the cleft in his chin was more prominent than before.
I smiled back, and said, "Thank you, sir."
Wait! Did I just thank this man for pulling me over? I'm late, I'm going to get a ticket, and I just thanked the man for it.
"Since I pulled you over, I have to check your stuff. Go ahead and hand me that license and I'll need to see your insurance."
I switched my license over to my left hand and stuck it out the window as I picked up my phone. It had gone back to standby mode, and I had to put my passcode back in. I swear I could feel the heat of his presence and stare within my soul. I took me two tries to get the passcode right. I handed him my phone and he lifted up his sunglasses to read it. He placed his sunglasses on his shaved head. Some people look awful with a shaved head, but this was the thing that put his masculinity and air of authority all together. He handed me my phone back, and I swear his fingers lingered over mine a half-second longer than normal. Long enough for me to look up into his brown eyes and he smiled again before saying, "Stay right here. Don't leave." and he walked back to his car.
Handsome, I'm not going anywhere.
After a few minutes, he walked back to my car and handed me back my license. Again, the tips of his fingers overlapped mine longer than what felt normal. I waited until he removed his fingers and looked up at him again. What was this smirk on his face? Am I imagining things that aren't really there? I was definitely reading too much into this and turned to put my license back in my purse. He stood there silently and waited for me to look back up at him again.
He said, "You were doing 12 miles over the limit, but I'm going to just give you a warning. Ma'am, I want you to slow down and drive carefully. Your life is important, more important than wherever you're headed to. However, I'm going to give you a citation for the taillight, but only to ensure you get it fixed. Fix the light, go the clerk, and they'll dismiss it."
"Yes, sir. Will do. Do I need to go to the dealership to fix the light? Or is that a Kwik Kar kind of thing?"
"No, your husband can go to an auto parts store, get a bulb, and fix it easily."
"Oh, I'm not married. So, you think Kwik Kar then?"
"No ma'am. Why don't you ask a neighbor to help you or something? There's no need to spend that much money."
"Umm. Okay. I'll try to find someone to help me."
"Don't worry, ma'am. It will get fixed. Then just take that ticket to clerk to get it dismissed. Now, drive slowly and carefully like I told you to, and have yourself a good day. I'll see you soon."
"Yes, sir."