“I'm afraid we're going to have to call it off,” I said to Spring over the phone.
“Because I'm talking to Mr. Officer here,” I said, looking up and out the car window at the State Trooper as I handed over my drivers license, insurance card and registration.
I was rushing home from rebooting a recalcitrant server, doing about 80mph on I-95 so that Spring and I could catch the Tri-Rail down to Opa-Locka; Spring thought I might like to take pictures of the City Hall, and in order to do this, we needed to make the 5:00 pm train.
But I suspect Mr. Officer overheard my comment to Spring. He glanced at my papers, then pulled a pen out. “Would you rather have a warning, or a ticket?” he asked.
Well. That's certainly a no-brainer. “A warning?”
“Okay,” said Mr. Officer. “Just keep it slow, and you'll want to check out your tire there.” He pointed to the front driver side tire. “That looks to be, what? 20 pounds of pressure. A bit low.” I climbed out of the car and took a look.
Yup, it was low.
“So please, get it fixed.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the written warning from him. “Merry Christmas.”
And I'm trying hard not to get cocky (and yes, the car is now legal to drive).
Afterwards, I called Spring back, saying that we could probably make it afterall, but that we would have to meet at the station.
I almost didn't make it but I parked at the Lake Worth Tri-Rail station and as I was walking (the parking lot is about a block away from the station itself) I heard the train pulling into the station. I started to run (boy, am I out of shape) but it turned out to be a maintenance train going through the station.
Spring had already bought my ticket and I had a few minutes to catch my breath before the actual Tri-Rail train pulled up.
But Spring has miscalculated the timing and was unaware that we would arrive at Opa-Locka after it got dark. And because the neighborhood of Opa-Locka is less than stellar, we decided to stick around the train station until we could head back north.