Those flashing blue and red lights in my rear view mirror caught me off guard. I was just driving home from a ten hour shift from work (6am-4pm) a month ago. I was tired and for those who live in the Salt Lake Valley, Alta View Hospital campus is built on a hill on the corner of 9400 South and 1300 East. Ever since getting pulled over a few years ago, I now obey the traffic rule and will drive all the way around campus to the north exit through two traffic lights instead of making the easier, more direct, and more convenient, albeit illegal, left turn onto 9400. According to the male officer, I was doing over 50 as I came flying down the hill past the Quarry Bend Shopping Center because I know the traffic in this area and I guess after taking the long way home I was a little excited to finally be on my way at last. I'd already passed 700 East when I realized I had the fuzz on my tail. I really thought I would be let off with a warning. I was given a citation anyway.
I have never been so angry in my life.
Just to clarify, my little, red, 1996 Ford Aspire is hardly a speed demon. Just a few weeks earlier I got the one finger salute driving this same route home on the 1300 East incline which the BMW behind me apparently felt I didn't take fast enough! I don't take my car on the freeway much anymore because it vibrates so hard whenever I hit 55mph. After fourteen years, I'm rather fond of my clunky little roller skate of a car that gets me where I need to go and I'd trade it in if I could afford a car payment but I only make $11.64 an hour flipping burgers so what's an old maid to do? I only live two miles from the hospital and have made this commute at all hours of the day and night for the last eight and a half years. It's not like I just caused a traffic accident.
I sobbed angrily the last few blocks remaining. I unlocked the door to my cold, drafty, solitary, cinder block one bedroom apartment, where no one was waiting to welcome me and ask how my day at work had gone. I collapsed onto the carpet with a new understanding of that derogatory term (pig) for police officers. The whole world was against me, I was all alone, and nobody was on my side.
How aggravated would I have been that day, if I had someone to help me find the humor in the situation and make me laugh? If there were small children around to keep me from spewing cuss words that would make a sailor blush for shame? Maybe, if my life were different, I wouldn't have gotten so angry and frustrated that day when I just couldn't deal with it anymore.
But, like Sophie in the children's picture book by Molly Bang (1999) that inspired this blog post title, I let out my ROAR, had my cry and even though it took a few days, instead of just one afternoon like Sophie, I was finally able to put it behind me after paying the fine at traffic court one week later.
There is a happy ending to this story. Graduation day at the University of Utah arrived, my biological father drove all the way from Seattle to visit. My sister, brother, nephews and my best friend all came to support me. We went out to eat afterwards and had very pleasant evening together. It only took me three short years to complete this second bachelor's degree. Everyone was proud of me and I had to admit I was a little proud of myself too.
And Michelle isn't angry anymore.
