I’m branded forever now with that letter; you know, the one that screams at people from across the room. Yes, I’ve got that huge S on my chest. You know, S for Speeder. Everyone asks me about it all the time.
“I just heard the news! I can’t believe you’re a Speeder!”
“When we were in college, I voted you least likely to be a Speeder.”
“What happened? I must know all the details! Where were you? Just how fast were you going? How much was the ticket?”
“That place is a speed trap! Better drivers know how to avoid getting caught there.”
“How could you? You grew up hearing the rules every time you were in the car!”
“Didn’t you read the manual on how to avoid being a speeder?”
“Is this the first time?”
And my favorite: “You need to tell me all about it so I can pray for you that you won’t get another speeding ticket.”
They’re right. I did read the driver’s manual, and I did know how to avoid getting a speeding ticket. I knew where the speed traps were. I remember hearing during my childhood how terrible speeding is; those lectures increased in intensity and frequency when I first got my license. I thought that if I bought my car at the conservative sales lot that it wouldn’t be marked for speeding. How wrong I was.
For years, no one noticed that I was a Speeder. Then I got my first warning. From then on I was labeled. Every time a police car was behind me, I just knew the officer was pulling my record. One day I saw a police car at the speed trap. But on my second pass down that road, I forgot. I was just careless, and I got busted. Worse yet, I had to pay a huge fine! Sure, people told me I could fight it and get a lawyer, but I knew I was guilty. I paid the fine. And then I had a record. Oh, the shame! I thought people would never stop talking about it!
Sure, talk died down some, but people still noticed my scarlet S. The next time I got pulled over, I wanted to sink through the floorboards of my car. After all, I had a different car, one that definitely wasn’t supposed to go over the speed limit. Apparently my new car also has the S on it.
To make matters worse, as I pulled away, my phone dinged with a text from my daughter’s friend. She had seen me pulled over. Now my children will find out! I’ll never live this down! I wanted to keep my kids out of the whole speeding mess because I had lectured them numerous times about the pitfalls of speeding, and kids do tend to do as you do, not as
you say. I can’t give that first speeding ticket back. It will always just be there. I will always be a Speeder.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not really talking about speeding. Oh sure, I am a Speeder, but the letter that really stands out is the D. Yes, D for Divorce. The church’s unpardonable, most obvious, most gossiped about sin. Recognize any of those comments above in a different context?
Kudos to your high school English teacher if you get the references to The Scarlet Letter. If you didn’t, go check out a synopsis here.
Bethany LaShell 