"But sir, I was going 50" didn't get me out of a ticket. And with Danielle in the passenger seat calculating the speed for me she basically said "mom, you're screwed."
He wasn't friendly, and either was I. I got stopped on a speed trap service road. A place where it's a bit like fishing at a trout farm. For my Chicago friends, it's like having to go approximately 30 mph on the service road next to the Eisenhower when everyone is going 70 mph. I was having a nice mother daughter talk about teenage stuff and before I knew it I was flagged down by the officer who proceeded to speak in French and I had to ask him to repeat it in English all the time knowing the fact that I don't speak French (other than Bordeaux and hors d'oeuvre) could affect the outcome of the ticket. And to compound the situation he wouldn't let me see the radar gun, I'm certain because I kept saying I was only going 50 and then he said "as a police officer, would I lie?" To which I said, "I'm from Chicago, what do you think?" I don't think he understood. I was hoping name dropping Chicago would at least get us chatting about Obama. It didn't work.
So, the ticket is on the visor of my car as a gentle reminder for the next 27 days (when it's due) to slow down. Then today I look up and notice the wording on one side of the ticket. What the? Yes, it says TAMPON! I come home and type the words into Google translate (wouldn't want to pull out my iPhone at the stop light and use that handy app because we're handsfree here in Quebec and can't call a French speaking friend because the blue tooth needs charging) and translate Tampon to find it means buffer. Well, as a matter of fact, yes, I would call "it" a buffer. But, Tampon du Caissier means Cashier's Stamp. This is one crazy language in a province with crazy, expensive traffic tickets.
Posts
1 comment:
Okay, the whole tampon thing? I was going to post a comment, but I'm laughing too hard!
Mon Dieu!
Post a Comment