"Excuse me, Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?"

Like many, my holiday weekend was a whirlwind of fun, and I am only just now beginning to come down off the high of family, friends, fun and fireworks.

In true "me" fashion, however, I was also able to squeeze in a brush with the law (hey, if nothing else, I am efficient - a multi-tasker, if you will) amidst all the fun.

Here's how it went down:

I was driving on the interstate that gets me from southwest Michigan to southeast Michigan.

To say there's a stretch of that drive that is "boring", is, at the very least, an understatement.

Well, I was there. In said boring part. Solo. (Bummer, hubby spent most of the weekend sick, in bed.)

And, if you've ever been to Michigan during these months where we do not normally have snow, then you know that each and every friggin' year our highways spend their non-frost-covered days peppered with orange construction barrels.

So, there I was: boring stretch of highway, surrounded by "targets".

And the posted (temporary) speed limit signs read "60 mph".

Sweet. I get to hang in the boring part a little longer than usual...

Well, as I was nearing the end of the construction (at least this stretch), I was crossing a bridge and noticed that the (temporary) speed limit sign on the right side of the road still said "60mph", BUT the sign on the left side of the road read "70mph".

My lucky day - I'M DRIVING IN THE LEFT LANE!!!!

Um, yeah, not so much.

As I hit 70(ish)mph, I noticed a friendly officer of the law perched on the other side of the bridge (which also happened to be just beyond the end of the construction zone - important detail later).

And, yes, by the time I noticed him, he was already inching his way toward the road, and his lights were on.

I looked around hoping another car had suddenly appeared and was grossly breaking several laws simultaneously, thus explaining Mr. Eager Officer Dude (MEOD).

Again, not so much.

So, I pull over.

And - SHOCKER - MEOD pulls in behind me.

Crap.

MEOD takes his sweet time meandering up to the car as I roll down the window.

Here was our exchange:

MEOD: Afternoon, Ma'am. Any idea how fast you were going?

ME: 70? (less of a guess, more of an "ish")

MEOD: 73

ME: (only in my head: SA-WEET! Barely over the limit)

MEOD: You know the posted speed limit?

ME: (excited because I SO HAVE THIS ONE NAILED) Yes sir, 70!

MEOD: Uh, no ma'am. You were in a construction zone and the posted speed limit is 60mph.

[I'm fairly certain what transpired next was directly related to his use of the words "posted speed limit". Not at all because I can sometimes be kind of a smart ass.]

ME: Well, yeah, about that. See, the sign on the right sign 60mph, BUT the sign on the left said 70mph ... SSSOOOOOO, I picked one!

(yes, I said it)

MEOD: (cocked his head to the side and quizzically uttered) Huh?

ME: Yeah. Seriously. The one on the left says 70. Go look. (remember, I pulled over almost immediately after the construction zone)

MEOD: (puzzled look again)

ME: (growing impatient because I have to pee, but SO NOT WANTING A TICKET)

MEOD: There is no way you just made that up.

ME (thinking): (no shit, Sherlock)
ME (actually said): I swear - it says 70.

[blank stares]

ME: So ..... am I gonna get a ticket?

MEOD: Uh, no.

ME: So ....... can I go?

MEOD: Yes. And slow down in construction zones.

ME: Got it. Wait - it's 70 here now, right?

MEOD: Yes ma'am. Have a safe weekend.


WOO HOO! I peeled outta there!
(ok, actually I responsibly merged back onto the interstate where cars were now whizzing by at, what sure seemed like, speeds greater that 70mph)

Proud of my lightening quick thinking and my INCREDIBLE luck, I made some calls to relay what had just occurred.

And, yes, I used the cell headphone/earpiece thingy so both hands were on the wheel.

Safety first - 10 and 2, baby. 10 and 2.