Blame Canada
This is a non-fiction story.
I didn’t want to drive to Canada.
Approximately three hours into my trip to Mississauga, Ontario, I saw a police officer cruiser pulled over onto the right side of the road. I slowed down slightly, although I wasn’t going too far over the speed limit and was moving along with traffic. "Nevertheless," I thought, "never can be too careful."
As I passed the cruiser, I looked in my rear-view mirror and noticed that he pulled into traffic directly behind me. His red and blue flashers illuminated. My heart sank deep into my stomach. Immediately, as I followed "getting pulled over" protocol (engaging turn signal, slowing down, approaching the right edge of the road), my mind started reeling with thoughts: "What had I done? I wasn’t speeding, my license plates aren’t expired, I wasn’t talking on my cell phone. Oh my gosh, what is going on?"
I switched off my engine and lowered my passenger window as he approached clad in a bullet-proof vest.
"License and registration, please. Do you know why I pulled you over, son?" scowled the officer.
"No, officer, I don’t."
"You have a radar detection device."
"Yes, sir, I do, although it’s switched off," I replied with politeness I had forgotten I had the power to exude.
"Radar detection devices are illegal in Canada, are you aware of that?"
"Yes, sir, I am, which is why it is switched off." I smiled, knowing I was a law-abiding foreigner.
"I’m gonna have to take it."
"You’re kidding," I replied, smile now gone without a trace of its previous existence.
"Son, in twenty years of law enforcement, I haven’t joked."
"I find that hard to believe," I thought and prayed that it hadn’t come out of my mouth. "Can I give it to you and then send for it when I’m back in the States?"
"No. It will be destroyed."
"Are you serious?" my eyes wide like a child on Christmas morning after seeing that the large box that should contain the super action HE-MAN playset conspicuously missing.
"Yup."
"I didn’t have the radar detector on, though, sir." Again, forcing politeness.
"Doesn’t matter, son."
Why was he calling me "son?" Because I look young? Because I remind him of his son? No. Most likely to be condescending to a law-breaking foreigner.
"Are you serious?" I asked once again hoping, praying that Ashton Kutcher would pop out of the bushes somewhere with a non-celebrity installment of Punk’d.
"Hand it over."
I did. I handed over my $400.00 cross-my-fingers-don’t-get-a-speeding-ticket-so-my-insurance-won’t-go-up-anymore security blanket.
"Valentine One. Nice. Very nice. Wait here," he said.
The police officer disappeared behind the back of my Nissan with my Valentine One. I looked at the empty mounting bracket suction-cupped to my windshield. I looked at the power cord dangling lifelessly on the floor of the passenger side. Gone. It’s gone. I tried with every ounce of strength to muster up tears. I was so desperate. I thought for sure that if I cried he would go easy on me, call me "son" again and give me back my Valentine One. No tears came. Instead, a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was going to give me a ticket. I knew it.
He returned to the passenger window and handed me a bright, yellow ticket.
"There’s a date there on the ticket. Now, listen and listen good. Possession of a radar detection device in Canada carries a mandatory court appearance. I’ll explain this. If you do not appear in court, we can issue a warrant for your arrest. Now, in my twenty years as a law enforcement officer, I’ve never seen them issue a warrant for this offense. I understand if you don’t want to travel the time and distance. What they will do is send you a fine of $170.00 Canadian. You’ll have to pay that. Your device will be destroyed." He made a special point to mention that again.
I made one last desperate effort, "Can I write to get it back?"
"Afraid not."
"Wait," I said, "will this go on my driving record in the States?"
"Well, Canada does have a reciprocal agreement with Ohio, but as far as I’m aware there’s no offense for radar detection devices in Ohio. So, I don’t think you’ll get any points on your driving record. Have a nice day."
Then I said something I will regret for a long, long time...
"I’m sorry."
He snickered. "It’s alright, son. Be careful now. With this car, you don’t need one of those things."
What? What was that supposed to mean. It’s because of this car that I do need "one of those things." 256 horses. Premium gas mileage when I’m doing 80 miles per hour. I don’t know what that is in kilometers. I don’t really care.
He went back to his cruiser and I started my engine and began the process of pulling back into traffic on the 401... without my radar detector. I immediately got on the phone to my mom to whine. While on the phone, I noticed that he was directly behind the car behind me. I hung up immediately because talking on your cell phone while driving is also illegal in Canada. Red and blue flashers illuminated once again. This time my heart fell straight through the floor in the car and onto the road. The car behind me pulled to the side of the road. The cruiser followed. I breathed a brief sigh of relief until I once again realized that my Valentine One was gone. $399.00 Valentine One. Gone. $136.00 fine (as long as the U.S. dollar doesn’t tank anymore).
I didn’t want to drive to Canada.
I didn’t want to drive to Canada.
Approximately three hours into my trip to Mississauga, Ontario, I saw a police officer cruiser pulled over onto the right side of the road. I slowed down slightly, although I wasn’t going too far over the speed limit and was moving along with traffic. "Nevertheless," I thought, "never can be too careful."
As I passed the cruiser, I looked in my rear-view mirror and noticed that he pulled into traffic directly behind me. His red and blue flashers illuminated. My heart sank deep into my stomach. Immediately, as I followed "getting pulled over" protocol (engaging turn signal, slowing down, approaching the right edge of the road), my mind started reeling with thoughts: "What had I done? I wasn’t speeding, my license plates aren’t expired, I wasn’t talking on my cell phone. Oh my gosh, what is going on?"
I switched off my engine and lowered my passenger window as he approached clad in a bullet-proof vest.
"License and registration, please. Do you know why I pulled you over, son?" scowled the officer.
"No, officer, I don’t."
"You have a radar detection device."
"Yes, sir, I do, although it’s switched off," I replied with politeness I had forgotten I had the power to exude.
"Radar detection devices are illegal in Canada, are you aware of that?"
"Yes, sir, I am, which is why it is switched off." I smiled, knowing I was a law-abiding foreigner.
"I’m gonna have to take it."
"You’re kidding," I replied, smile now gone without a trace of its previous existence.
"Son, in twenty years of law enforcement, I haven’t joked."
"I find that hard to believe," I thought and prayed that it hadn’t come out of my mouth. "Can I give it to you and then send for it when I’m back in the States?"
"No. It will be destroyed."
"Are you serious?" my eyes wide like a child on Christmas morning after seeing that the large box that should contain the super action HE-MAN playset conspicuously missing.
"Yup."
"I didn’t have the radar detector on, though, sir." Again, forcing politeness.
"Doesn’t matter, son."
Why was he calling me "son?" Because I look young? Because I remind him of his son? No. Most likely to be condescending to a law-breaking foreigner.
"Are you serious?" I asked once again hoping, praying that Ashton Kutcher would pop out of the bushes somewhere with a non-celebrity installment of Punk’d.
"Hand it over."
I did. I handed over my $400.00 cross-my-fingers-don’t-get-a-speeding-ticket-so-my-insurance-won’t-go-up-anymore security blanket.
"Valentine One. Nice. Very nice. Wait here," he said.
The police officer disappeared behind the back of my Nissan with my Valentine One. I looked at the empty mounting bracket suction-cupped to my windshield. I looked at the power cord dangling lifelessly on the floor of the passenger side. Gone. It’s gone. I tried with every ounce of strength to muster up tears. I was so desperate. I thought for sure that if I cried he would go easy on me, call me "son" again and give me back my Valentine One. No tears came. Instead, a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was going to give me a ticket. I knew it.
He returned to the passenger window and handed me a bright, yellow ticket.
"There’s a date there on the ticket. Now, listen and listen good. Possession of a radar detection device in Canada carries a mandatory court appearance. I’ll explain this. If you do not appear in court, we can issue a warrant for your arrest. Now, in my twenty years as a law enforcement officer, I’ve never seen them issue a warrant for this offense. I understand if you don’t want to travel the time and distance. What they will do is send you a fine of $170.00 Canadian. You’ll have to pay that. Your device will be destroyed." He made a special point to mention that again.
I made one last desperate effort, "Can I write to get it back?"
"Afraid not."
"Wait," I said, "will this go on my driving record in the States?"
"Well, Canada does have a reciprocal agreement with Ohio, but as far as I’m aware there’s no offense for radar detection devices in Ohio. So, I don’t think you’ll get any points on your driving record. Have a nice day."
Then I said something I will regret for a long, long time...
"I’m sorry."
He snickered. "It’s alright, son. Be careful now. With this car, you don’t need one of those things."
What? What was that supposed to mean. It’s because of this car that I do need "one of those things." 256 horses. Premium gas mileage when I’m doing 80 miles per hour. I don’t know what that is in kilometers. I don’t really care.
He went back to his cruiser and I started my engine and began the process of pulling back into traffic on the 401... without my radar detector. I immediately got on the phone to my mom to whine. While on the phone, I noticed that he was directly behind the car behind me. I hung up immediately because talking on your cell phone while driving is also illegal in Canada. Red and blue flashers illuminated once again. This time my heart fell straight through the floor in the car and onto the road. The car behind me pulled to the side of the road. The cruiser followed. I breathed a brief sigh of relief until I once again realized that my Valentine One was gone. $399.00 Valentine One. Gone. $136.00 fine (as long as the U.S. dollar doesn’t tank anymore).
I didn’t want to drive to Canada.
posted by Matthew D. Bowland at
2:00 AM
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