L Woods How to Get Out of a Ticket: the L Woods Way

Before I moved to Toronto, I lived in one of those towns that’s made up entirely of grass fields, horses, and dirt roads. I have no problem with the first two, as field parties are awesome and horses are even better, but when you hate driving, mostly because you suck at it, it sucks to live in a place where nothing is within walking distance – not even your horse.

So I was back home for the summer and I was driving a half hour to go get some Starbucks, because I miss the city so much, when all of a sudden myself and the three cars around me are being waved over to the side of the road by some asshole cop. He claimed it was because we were all doing 80 in a 50-zone, but everyone knows that cops in Caledon have nothing better to do with their time. (Caledon = safest community in Canada for a number of years running, holla.)

The four of us pulled over to the side of the road. I was third in the line, which gave me some time to think of how to escape this potential speeding ticket, which I cannot afford.

According to my sources, when you’re a young female and you get pulled over, you usually have three options: you can accept the ticket and pay it, you can offer the officer an alternate form of payment (catch on…), or you can cry and hope they feel sorry for you.

None of these options are okay with me. First of all, even with a fulltime job, I cannot afford to pay a ticket. Anyone else who is a broke student living in downtown Toronto will understand this. Secondly, I am not okay with using oral sex as a bribe. It gives men a kind of power and sense of entitlement that is never okay. If you’re going to blow someone, it should only be because they have a beautiful penis and you want to. Finally, as I’ve mentioned before, I never condone crying. Crying is inconvenient, embarrassing, and childish. It is the most useless action that the human body performs. Stop crying. When I see someone crying in public I literally want to smack the tears right off of their face.

So these three options clearly don’t sit well with me, but don’t you worry your pretty little face. I am getting out of this ticket. How, you might ask? With a little honesty and a lot of natural charm.

As the cop approaches my window I estimate that he is probably in his mid-thirties, probably married with a child, and while he isn’t the ripped, sexy cop that most girls fantasize about, he’s not too hard on the eyes.

He asks me where I was going in such a hurry. I tell him that I was speeding home trying to catch puck-drop, but now, thanks to him, I’m probably going to miss the entire first period. We start talking puck and I chirp him for being a Canucks fan.

He tells me, “we should catch a game together sometime.” I tell him that the season is over, but I’m sure we could make something work. (Never act eager, regardless of the situation you’re in.) He writes down something on his notepad, which must look like a ticket to the guy in the car behind me, but was really his name and number.

“Don’t let me catch you speeding through here again...or do.” He says with a wink. WITH. A. WINK. I yacked a little bit. Don’t ever wink.

As much as I appreciate the fact that Officer James didn’t give me a ticket, I will not be calling him. Not only do I not date Canucks fans, I also don’t date guys who wink.

I just thought I’d share this little story with you to remind you that you don’t need to embarrass yourself by crying or offering a happy ending just to get out of a ticket; play it cool. If you cannot manage to flirt your way out of a ticket, you probably deserve to pay it. 

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