That Time I Got Pulled Over For Stealing My Own Car (I Could Never Get Away With Murder part 3)

When I first got my license I was lucky enough to be given a car by my uncle/godfather. If you’re thinking I’m spoiled let me just say that it was the year 1998 and I was given a 1986 Caprice Classic with no swaybar  that would have been on its way to a junk yard if I didn’t take it.

I also got my license 3 days before the state of Massachusetts passed a law that all minors who got their license would have to wait a 6 months before they could drive with their friends as passengers. You would think that since I had my license before this law was passed that it wouldn’t affect me but it did. I had 3 days of bliss and then had to wait 6 months before any of my friends could ride with me and my parents also warned me that I better not break that law.

One day during those 6 dreadful months it was raining and my friend didn’t have a ride home from school. I felt really bad and after some nagging and reminding me that she did only live right down the street from me I caved and agreed to it.

I drove home a different route then I would have normally gone to drop her off and constantly looked at the speedometer to make sure I was obeying every law because I did not want to get in trouble.

The radio was loud and I was wearing sunglasses because I felt like I was cool enough to wear them in the rain when those red and blue lights flashed in my rearview followed by the wail of the siren.

I slowed down and pulled to the side of the road figuring that he would pass me but instead he pulled up behind me.

The nerves kicked in and I started sweating and threw my sunglasses off my face (breaking them) as the cop approached and I dug into my wallet for my license.

He asked me for my license and registration which I gave to him with my trembling hand. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked.


“You were doing 42 in a 30.”

“I was?” Was my speedometer broken? I know I looked at in and it said I was going 30 exactly.

“Who’s car is this?” he asked.


“Where did you get it from?”

My thoughts started to make sense again and I realized that I had gotten my car from my uncle who was a police officer in this town and my car was also rocking a police sticker in the back window. “My… My… Uncle.”

He gave me my license and registration back. “You’re free to go. Just slow down, OK?”


He got back in his cruiser and pulled away and I proceeded to yell at my friend for making me take her home and that I wouldn’t have been going that way if it wasn’t for her. I also realized that I broke my cheap $10 sunglasses.

I decided that it was best not to tell my parents that I got pulled over and I definitely wasn’t going to tell them that I had a passenger in my car.

Two weeks later my father comes home. “So, you got pulled over, huh?”

“Yeah.” How the hell does he know?

“The cop didn’t know that your uncle got a new car and pulled you over because he thought you stole it.”

“I knew I wasn’t speeding!”


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