Dare to be true: nothing can need a lie: A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby.
It was 11 o'clock at night and I was driving home last week after a long day in Toronto. Passing through a quiet Kitchener-Waterloo I was a happy, coasting 119 speeder on a 90 km/h highway about 1/2 hour from home when I saw the lights behind me. Crap.
I pulled over, immediately pulled out my licence and registration and ownership and had it ready for when the officer came to my window. "Good evening" he started, "how are you tonight?" "Speeding apparently!" I said with a smile and handed him my documentation. The rest of the conversation went exactly like this...
Officer: "Yes you were. You were going at a pretty happy clip while I was behind you. Any particular reason for the speeding tonight?"
Me: "No, just a long day in Toronto and heading home to Stratford."
Officer: "Okay, do you know the speed limit on this highway?"
Me: "Yes. 90."
Officer: "Yes it is. And you were doing about a buck 20!"
Me: "119!" with a smile.
Officer, handing back my documents: "Okay, well fines would be about $220 and 3 points, so be careful on the way home now, okay?"
Me: "...and a lot slower too, apparently! Thank you very much!"
...and away I went. I literally drove home the rest of the way at 109 km/h with a smile on my face and tweeted about it immediately.
I learned a long, long time ago to never lie to authorities. It just doesn't work. Being truthful and owning up to one's actions is the best approach. It was watching my Dad one day in court that taught me that.
My sister was about 12 years old and had gone to our local store at the strip mall with her friend. She was taking longer than usual and then our phone rang and you could tell that she was really upset. She told my parents that she was holed up in the phone booth at the corner of the store's parking lot because there were a couple of teenage boys there harassing her and her friend. They were taunting the girls and had apparently told my sister and her friend to "suck my dick". That was all my Dad needed to hear. He rushed over to the store which was about a five minute walk in probably two minutes. By the time he had arrived, there was a police cruiser there with a couple of officers, as my sister's friend's father happened to be a police officer. My father briskly walked up to the crowd, asked my sister quickly which boy had harassed her and promptly walked through the officers, straight up to this one boy and smacked him, hard, right across the face. The police basically shrugged their shoulders and allowed my Dad to walk my sister and her friend home.
Of course, the story doesn't end there. This boy continued to harass my sister whenever he saw her in the neighbourhood and then he and his father proceeded to take my father to court for assault.
So there we are, my whole family in court. My sister, young and scared on the witness stand and the judge asks her what the boy had said to her. She made her statement, but was so shy that she was asked to repeat it "so the court could hear". "SUCK MY DICK" she was immediately burning red with embarrassment.
Then it was my Dad's turn. A former army grunt he stood in front of the judge in military stance with his legs firmly spread and with his arms clasped behind him, excepting I'll never forget that he also had hair down to shoulders, sunglasses on top of his head with a blue Adidas t-shirt, flare jeans and sandals on. It was many years later that I realized that he was Serpico incarnate and how that must've looked to the judge.
The judge says, "So, can you tell me Mr. S____ why it was this particular boy that you hit?" and my father responded with "To tell you the truth your honour, he was the only one I could get to."
Moments later, the judge dismissed the case.
Lesson learned. Thanks Dad...