I departed my humble abode on March 6, 2012, at FIVE AM! First stop on this obscenely frigid twenty-five-degree morning? Local McDonalds. Didn’t seem decent to begin the trip without iced coffee, another of my favorite addictions. After my order was filled, I pulled into a parking space to assign my new GPS the address for Shenandoah Valley General District Court.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed a couple of men meandering around the fast food joint’s lot. Must be Ronald’s employees. No sooner had I reversed to leave, I realized the Garmin navigator was in night mode. Ugh. That makes me bonkers! For a quick adjustment, I sidled my auto out of the path of potential drive-thru customers and changed the setting. Why do those two guys keep looking at me? There’s only me and one other vehicle here, right? I glanced over at the latter: a large truck. Ohmigod. No way.
Nobody except me could unintentionally cross paths with the Virginia State Police Search & Recovery Dive Team, in Holeandcorner Town, before dawn’s early light, while en route to take on another member of their agency over a traffic ticket. ‘Twas a sign!
Million and a half miles later, I arrived on location an hour ahead of schedule. Hoping to crib a snapshot or twenty, I settled in a nifty spot at the end of the sole convenient street to the judicial building to watch for Trooper Dean’s arrival. A blue and gray cruiser eventually passed by, both occupants of the marked car blatantly staring at me. Well, it’s not like they don’t know what I drive. I assumed they’d also been forewarned about my penchant for toying with Law Enforcement. Happy happy happy. Joy joy joy.
Twenty minutes prior to the nine o’clock docket -- which my name was on -- I maneuvered my wheels between the double white lines and cut off the ignition. The policemen were nowhere to be seen; obviously they’d made a hurried exit from their transportation. Aww... too bad. Undeterred, I shot a few pictures of their ride.
Beyond the wooden doors, I sat and soaked up the scene. Aside from attorneys and lawboys, I was, as usual, the exclusive person wearing full courtroom-appropriate attire. Trooper Dean was standing on the officials’ side, near the judge’s bench; his squad car confrère, Trooper Backup, was seated on us peons’ side, in the last pew. I got a kick out of the notion that, due to moi, the delightful Dean felt compelled to lure some badged buddy into accompanying him. Reminded me of when a spiteful Trooper B. Long, battling me under his guise of “improper stopping on highway” rather than the reality of “how dare you take a photograph of a cop,” brought his pal Sgt. Bailey along to Bedford Court.
Back outside, I noticed another fellow with the State Police showing face. Prolly here for the ten o’clock docket. I added him and his 5227 to my memory card.
I did, via clandestine methods not worth mentioning at the moment, manage to capture on camera Trooper D.A. Dean Jr. However, since he’d testified he’d “cut me a break” by not charging me with speeding, I’ll cut him a break by not publishing his image. (You’re welcome, Officer.) Take my word for it, he seriously is a beautiful example of the male species. Why can’t he reside a smidgen bit nearer by?
If you’re wondering what the verdict was for my violation of 46.2-1003 -- tag lights out:
Case dismissed!
Perhaps if I get a yen to, I’ll type up a detailed account of what transpired in front of Mrs. Judge.
So. Yes, I spent $50 in gas when I could’ve merely paid the $30 fine. Yes, I didn’t have to journey three hours when I could’ve merely stayed home and re-polished my nails. But it’s the principle of the thing. Oh, yeah, plus the entertainment value. And that’s really what’s most important here, isn’t it?
