Note: This post is a work of complete and utter nonsense. Any resemblance to actual bloggers living or typing this exact sentence is purely coincidental.
Stage One: Obliviousness
La la la laaaaa, I am driving. I am driving somewhere important, though not like, political thriller or apocalypse movie type important, where I'm driving to stop an assassination or fleeing a giant fireball of lava, but important to ME, and my little life, and I matter. I am a person with meaning and purpose. In fact, I am BUSY and IMPORTANT, so get the fuck out of my way, all you other assholes on the road! Zoom! ZOOMZOOM!
Stage Two: Oh Shit, That's a Cop Right There
Stage Three: Endless Possibilities of Hopeful Hope & Optimism
Maybe the cop already pulled somebody over? Maybe he's just sitting in the car minding his own business? Filling out some paperwork? On the side of the highway? Just because? No? Maybe the radar gun wasn't aimed at me? Maybe the car in front of me? Maybe I wasn't actually going that fast? Maybe he saw how great I just was about slamming on the brakes to slow down so he knows that I got the point and in the end, isn't that really all that matters?
Stage Four: Sinking Realization That You Are Likely Screwed
The cop gets back in his cop car.
The words coming out of your mouth become a strange, unearthly mix of obscenities and prayerful promises. Like speaking in tongues, in a way, only with a lot of f-bombs.
Stage Five, Option A: In Which You Prepare to Bargain
Think of an excuse. THINK OF AN EXCUSE. One of the children is sick! Or has to pee! No, I can't involve them in this...they're useless at lying on cue. I'm sick! I have to pee! How pregnant do I look today? I'm late! I'm delivering meals to the elderly! Toddlers for the shut-ins! Medicine for the puppies! Transplant organs!
Stage Five, Option B: In Which You Realize You've Been Playing a Little Too Much Grand Theft Auto
Maybe if I just sloooooowly and caaaaaaasually move the car into the far right lane he'll lose track of me. And then gun it up the breakdown lane up to that tractor trailer, which I could drive UNDER and then lose him on the other side of a billboard or something. Look at that median. I could so totally take that median. Fuck this. I AM TAKING THIS CAR AIRBORNE OVER THAT MOTHERFUCKING MEDIAN. CIRCLE RIGHT TRIANGLE LEFT UP ARROW!
Stage Six: Asking the Eternal Question
Will it make any difference if I cry?
Stage Seven: The Rearview of Hope
His lights are on but he's kind of far behind me...doesn't seem to be gunning it in this direction or anything...did that car just put on its turn signal? Is that car...pulling over?
Stage Eight: The Gift of the Baby Angels From Heaven
IT IS! AND THE COP TOO! IT WASN'T ME! HE WASN'T AFTER ME! Oh my God, I will never go over the speed limit again, I swear, in fact, I think I shall just take some deep breaths and coast along at 45 or so for now.
Stage Nine: Schadenfreude
HA HA LOOK AT THAT JACKASS WHO JUST GOT PULLED OVER
Stage 10: Five Minutes Later, In Which You Learn Nothing
Seriously, people, could you drive ANY slower? I've got places to be already! I AM VERY BUSY AND IMPORTANT, IN CASE YOU HAD NOT HEARD. ZOOOOOOOM!