I’ll post one. Living in Roanoke, Virginia and traveling SW Virginia and West Virginia for my job, I used to drive about 25,000 miles a year. Hard driving, too. Radar detectors were against the law in Virginia and were subject to confiscation, so I never owned one. I just knew where I needed to be careful about the speed limits.
I frequently drove US 460 from Blacksburg, VA to Princeton, WVA. It was a four-lane divided highway weaving through the hills and mountains. There was a state highway patrol station in the middle in little Pearisburg, VA, so that entire stretch was a strict 55 mph. The highway patrol was notorious for running speed traps through there because you’d never see them until it was too late.
One Monday morning, I’m heading to West Virginia and passing by Lane Stadium at Virginia Tech. About 20 miles past that, I made a gradual left hand curve and looked in my mirror and saw a highway patrol car with his lights on. I was pissed, because I wasn’t paying attention, and I knew better. The trooper walked up and looked like an old Charlie Weaver. I didn’t say a word, gave him my license and registration, and he said he clocked me going 66 in a 55. When he returned, he had my ticket written out. He arbitrarily dropped the speed to 63 to give me a break (smaller fine). I signed it, and threw the ticket in my glove box.
Needless to say, I forgot to pay it. I found it in my glovebox on a Sunday afternoon, and the court date to appear was the next morning. So I showed up at 9:00 on Monday and sat in the back in the courthouse. The clerk called roll and requested pleas. I replied “guilty.” I just wanted to pay and go on my way. After the guys in jail were dealt with by the judge, my case was the second one called to the bench. The trooper was there, and he and the prosecutor approached with me. We stood in a line in front of the bench.
The judge read the charge, and said I pleaded guilty. He asked why I didn’t pay by mail and appeared instead. So I told the truth. I told him I wasn’t contesting the charge and that the trooper was just doing his job and ticketed me. I said I drove a lot for my job, and that I knew better than to be speeding. I didn’t see the trooper in the median because I was reading the USA Today sports section spread out in my passenger seat and drinking coffee. Then I forgot to pay the ticket.
The judge had to pick his jaw up from the bench, and the prosecutor and trooper stood stone silent. Then the judge said that the court would accept my guilty plea, and in return for my blunt honesty, he waived the additional court costs and knocked a point off my driving record for the offense. He didn’t chastise me, but said he thought I learned my lesson and told me to pay the clerk on the way out. I said “Thank you, your Honor,” shook the hands of the prosecutor and trooper, and paid the clerk in cash.
