I think my need for speed started early in life. Racing my little brother in my pink Barbie Dream Car fostered my craving for speed until I could finally get a real vehicle and hit the road. We all have this secret love for the open road and fast exhilaration, right? We hop in the car and don’t want to stress about silly little things like speed limits, or laws, or tickets. Who needs that worry in their life? Not me. Unfortunately, neither my parents nor the great states of Tennessee and Alabama feel the same way. Of course, every time the frame of some scary, stern police officer darkens my window I promise him, and myself, that I will never ever speed again and that I was just running late this one time. Really. No? Well hear me out, please! I have a good reason I do!
- I honestly just don’t notice it.
Yes, yes I know the speed limit is 55 mph and, yes, I realize that I was going 75 mph (really, what’s 20 extra miles per hour?), but I promise you I just didn’t notice how fast I was going. I have 10,000 things going through my mind while driving — and so do you, don’t lie! I mean I have to remember what episode of “One Tree Hill” I was on because if I forget I’ll never know if Lucas chose Peyton or Brooke. (Team Layton all the way.) I just have to remember to tuck my shirt in when I get there because it looks way cuter like that. And I absolutely cannot forget to grab my jacket out of the trunk. Crap, does that speedometer say 80! Oops?
- I literally can’t drive slowly.
Look, I try. I honestly do. I just can’t make myself drive 50 miles per hour when I have places to be. I could get there so much quicker going 60 — or 70. I know I know that’s bad and illegal, but when I try to crawl at a 55 mph pace I feel like a snail trying in vain to reach its destination.
- I have places to be!
Obviously, if I’m driving I have somewhere to be. I need to reach that somewhere and reach it fast. I know what the sign says, but chapter starts at 6:30 p.m. and its 6:25 p.m.! How do you expect me to get there driving slower than my granny? Life as a college student is basically a never-ending to do list leading from one destination to another quicker than you can even think to blink those lights at me. I have places to be, mister.
- I am perpetually late.
Yeah, yeah I should just leave earlier right? No, it’s not that simple. I barely have time to breathe much less leave earlier. It’s a miracle if I ever make it anywhere let alone make it there on time. And when I am on time do you know why? Yep, it’s cause I drove like the devil was chasing me. This outfit took time and you don’t honestly think my hair looks like this naturally, do you?
- It’s in my blood.
Dearest Mom and Dad, don’t you dare try to deny it. You both drive like something is chasing you. How can you expect me to act any different from my favorite role models? Every time I hop into the false safety of our Ford Fusion I find myself clutching for dear life at the “oh, crap” handle and confessing my sins just in case. It’s genetics, people, and I promise you I get it honest.
It doesn’t look like my need for speed will be quelled anytime soon, but really officer, I promise I’ll slow down (at least until you’re out of range). I have places to be and people to see, so unless you want me to be stationary and lonely I will be speeding your way soon. Go ahead and sign me up for the Daytona 500; I’m sure ill need the prize money to pay for all these speeding tickets.