Go Faster!

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Tien Bui Meyer"”English 1A Sept. 4, 01 Go Faster! The need for speed was always in me. It was 3 AM on highway 5 weaving through this remote town, with intentions, I glanced over to my right, my left, my mirrors--all was darkness, no one in sight. Out of sight, out of mind, I pushed down on the gas pedal until my feet can't reach any further. Reaching down to adjust my seat closer, I stepped on it even harder until the pedal was locked to a dead stop. My hands firmly clawing to the progressively vibrating steering wheel, my eyeballs constantly and vigilantly swung back and forth like a pendulum searching for suspect cops, but yet all the while my mind was suspended in this timeless dimension relishing this illegal adrenaline rush. It was a cheap '87 Toyota with around 90 horses pushing it to a maximum speed of 90 mph, and that was how fast I was going.

Zooming through, I saw blobs of lights ahead. It was getting closer, closer, closer. It was a cop.

I didn't know what to compliment on"”-was it the Toyota's brakes, was it my own reflexes, or was it the so famous Redbull that I drank earlier? I silently and Bui-2 reluctantly passed him at 70 mph feeling guilty, hopeful, but confused. The mixture of these feelings was hard to digest. Did he in fact catch me speeding right behind him or did I get away with it? Suppressing my nervousness, I calmly continued steering ahead. He changed lanes; I panicked. He was right behind me. For the next 30 seconds, my heart was beating faster than how fast I was going. Nothing happened, but yet the intensity of his silence overpowered me. I changed to my right; he followed my lead. I smacked myself on the head in complete hopelessness. I slowed down; he pulled me over. "Bummer, another ticket, another hundred out of my pocket, another lecture from my parents," silently muttering these thoughts to myself as I stopped to the side of the road.

The door slammed shut trapping multiple waves of his inaudible radio signals, followed by the sound of his steps banging against the concrete as he approach toward my passenger window, but the glare of his overwhelmingly bright headlights impeded my ability to catch sight of anything else. He knocked, and I rolled. "Hi there! You know why I pulled you over don't you?" His words insinuate a very hyper tone as though he just drank one of those Redbull too. His eyes staring at me as if Bui-3 trying to read my mind, I starred back and uttered--"no, sir," with a childish voice acting completely innocent and unaware of any mistakes. "You're violating 2 laws, first of all you were speeding." His words echoed with authority. "I didn't realize that, sir." I lied. First rule: never lie to a cop, something I learned from previous traffic school. I broke the rule. I was beginning to feel uneasy as those words began to unfold my devious self-indulgence. "Well, it was not by much, roughly 75 or so, but that was not the reason why I pulled you over today." Relieved I was, hearing those potent words remedied my guilt. I said "oh" in a passive tone faking a confession that would hide any cues that could lead him to change those numbers any higher. "I pulled you over because you slowed down to 60 on a 70 highway." The irony soaked my amusement. He then completely ignored about my speeding (what speeding?) and stressed about the illegality of going 60 on a 70 highway for no reason at all. The conversation followed by an elaborate speech addressing my faults and how I should rectify it. Of course, I took the easy way out and admit to it with of typical excuses attached. It was a role-play, he did the all talk, but he let me do the walk. I walked away without a ticket.

Bui-4 No, I did not watch "The Fast and the Furious" that night. I was glad that I did not or else in a flash of that hypnotizing second, he would have been just another competitor who I would race with and loose. My car is getting old and for the past 2 weeks I've been looking for a new car. I know it is hard for me to control myself when I am on the road, but off the road, I will choose the right car. It wont be a sports car. Cars capable of zero to sixty in six seconds and max out at 140 mph will only feed my indulgence. I think a 4-door luxury car or compact sedan will do for me, and if I happen to speed again, I will be in disguise. After 2 tickets, traffic school, and the increased in my insurance rates, I was forced learn a lot. It's some expensive lessons that I've paid for but I don't mind. I would rather learn it from tickets than accidents. I've read somewhere that offenders get caught once for every 3 thousand traffic violations that he/she committed. If this is to be statically accurate, then I only have another thousand traffic laws to break for my third ticket.