Ticket to Ride

Posted on August 2, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet

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Checking out the rear view mirror

 

 

“She’s got a ticket to ride

But she don’t care”

Ticket to Ride – The Beatles

There was a time, not all that long ago, that drinking and driving was the norm.  It would not be uncommon to see someone exit the liquor store and pop a cold one while leaving the parking lot.  As a society, we have become much more aware of the perils of this practice and now it is the custom to have a designated driver.  Taxi companies experienced a growth in business when the crackdown on drinking and driving came.

This does not mean that common sense always prevails.  There are still some people who think that they can drive better while under the influence than their spouses can sober.

I recently travelled to a party with some friends in their vehicle.  Being a non- drinker, I volunteered to drive home after the gathering so that they could have a few glasses of wine with supper.   We spent a lovely afternoon at the lake, kayaking, playing washer toss and just letting the warm breeze blow across our faces.  After a gargantuan feast, it was time to hit the road.  As it turned out, I was relieved of driving duties as the wife of the couple had not imbibed.

I rode shotgun while her husband and daughter occupied the back seat.

We weren’t very far down the road when the driver inquired about the speed limit.  We had yet to see a sign.  We crested a hill and coming straight at us was a car with the unmistakeable markings of an R.C.M.P. cruiser.  The driver took a quick peek at the speedometer, which is the natural instinct.  Having not seen a speed limit sign, it was anyone’s guess whether or not she was speeding.

The young child in the rear seat was oblivious to the drama that had the potential to unfold.

There is always a ten second time frame after a Mountie car goes by you, travelling in the opposite direction.  The driver immediately looks in the rear view mirror.  This is followed by a decided spike in the heart rate and perspiration in the palms of the hands.  “Will the red and blue lights on the roof of the officer’s vehicle go on, accompanied by the tell-tale siren?”

In this particular case, the driver had several things running through her mind besides these thoughts.  When she looked in the rear view mirror, she saw a little smirk on her husband’s face.  He was pondering the delicious irony of the situation.  How embarrassing would it be for his wife to get a speeding ticket while nobly serving as the designated driver?  He really didn’t want the Mounties to whip around and take chase, but there was a small corner of his psyche that would have enjoyed it.

She wondered what would be worse.  Explaining the intricacies of the situation to her daughter, or paying a fine?  No.  There is something far worse.  This couple was attending a neighborhood party later that evening and the razzing she would take, once the story was embellished by her husband, would be relentless.

The lights and siren did not go on.  You could clearly hear her exhale.

She did not “get a ticket to ride” … and she does care.

 

 

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