Taking it like a man

The Boy got nailed for speeding, I believe I've already mentioned that. Partly because of the magnitude of his offense (# of mph over the posted suggestion), and partly because I wanted him to learn a lesson, I made him go to court. Not to fight it, per se, but to hopefully get a reduced fine and a payment plan. This young man is going to be working his little arse off, you see. And, of course, there is always the teeny shred of hope that the ticketing officer would not bother to show (they are so busy fighting real crime, you know), and perhaps it might be thrown out. heh. heh heh. Well anyway. There was also the angle that the stretch of road the officer said he clocked him on was not the same street noted on the citation; if it happened on street "a", there was hardly enough pavement between the potholes and railroad tracks for him to have accellerated to the alleged mph. If It happened on street "b", there was of course that van that pulled out in front of him who 1) slowed him down and 2) was clearly going faster than he was. Cut and dry, don't you think?
As it turns out, the cute little police officer in the tight little pants (who hardly looked older than The Boy) was awaiting our arrival. He took us aside. "I'll knock this down to 10 over if you plead guilty," he said. My, his cuffs were shiny. I liked the way his early-morning stubble accentuated his hardened jaw and bulging adam's apple. A bead of perspiration glistened on his.... Oh yeah, where was I.... The points assigned to his novice driving record would be cut in half. One year without any violations, and he'd be in the clear. Sounded good to me. I mean, really, who has ever fought a speeding ticket and won? All I'd hoped to accomplish was a reduced charge, a payment plan, and some well-earned respect for the law from my son. So, I got what I wanted. Except the nice man in the uniform. They wouldn't let me take him home. ::sigh::