Out Of My Hands

The other night in Virginia Beach, it took us about an hour to get out of the parking lot. I considered us fairly lucky. Last night, it took much longer. We waited a bit before walking out to the car, we knew what we were in for. It was 11:30 by the time we made it to the BFE parking space, and it was 1:20 when we pulled out of the pavilion. Of course, I didn't care. It was the most amazing concert I've ever been to.

By the time I dropped off my friends, approximately 3 miles away from me, it was pushing 2 am. I was heading down Van Dorn (a street normally flooded with traffic) when I saw the lights behind me. I knew I had not been driving fast at all, so I really had no clue why I was being pulled over. Here is how it went down:

Mr. Policeman: "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Me: "No sir. I really don't."
Mr. Policeman: "Do you know what the speed limit on this road is?"
Me: "No, I'm sorry. I do not know."
Mr. Policeman: "It's 35 mph. Do you know how fast you were going?"
Me: "I don't know. Maybe 40 mph."
Mr. Policeman (quite content in correcting me): "50 mph. Can I see you driver's license."
Me: "Yes sir. I'm sorry, I really didn't know. I'm sorry."

(Mr. Policeman walks back to his car and returns about 1 minute later.)

Mr. Policeman (handing me my license): "Do me a favor and slow down."
Me: "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

I was going 85 in a 55 on the interstate 5 minutes prior, and I get pulled over for going 50 on a road which one would assume the speed limit to be at least 45 mph. Go figure.