I most certainly didn’t speed on March 5th, but a cop got me just half a mile down from home and slapped me with a 21 mile over the limit speeding ticket.
Maybe I pushed the pedal down harder on the loaner car.
Maybe my mind was occupied with an intense conversation I had with a friend on the phone.
Maybe I was hurrying back to my daughter who never falls sick to get her medicines on time
Maybe I was speeding.
But I wasn’t. I was sure. Yet, there was the yellow sheet of paper that I clutched in my hand as I hurried across from the parking garage to the court building in Fairfax. This was my 4th trip. I had a ticket way back 14 years ago. Then over the next couple of years it was for my son’s license and permit hearings. Then now.