First of all, let me say that I absolutely loved the family I met while I was in Nebraska. Wonderful, wonderful people (and those of you who know me, know I don't like many people). The drive was long, boring, monotonous, and frankly, NE looks like KS only even more desolate. Not the entire state, probably, but the route we took.
Somewhere near the KS/NE border, I was pulled over by a state trooper.. For speeding, duh! I asked him how fast he clocked me at and he responded "we don't tell you that when giving a warning".
"Warning". I figured I'd better shut up.
When he hit his lights, I was only doing 73. Apparently, prior, he had educatedly "guesstimated" my approximate speed at around 102. That was probably pretty accurate. He asked for my license, and as I handed it over he spotted my student ID. He asked what it was, I told him, he asked to see it. I handed it over, annoyed, saying "here you go, Sir.. My super secret assassin identity. Shhh.. We're heading to Nebraska."
Also apparent, his sense of humor isn't as sick as mine.
Anyway, I got a warning. Although I was a bit surprised at that point.
The way I see it, it's not my fault the car moved that fast. I mean I barely touched the pedal and I hit 90. Here's what I was driving:
Yes, I'm fully aware it's not a good picture. Sorry. It's an '09 Chevy HHR. Remember how much I loved the Sebring? Yeah? Well it's got a little competition.
Stay tuned for Part 2.