Florida is a brilliant idea!
"You're screwed, ha, ha," said Mr. GPS voice.
Ahead, there were three motorcycle cops stopping cars. Still unaware of my faux pas, I waited for my turn confidently that I was insured and doing everything legal. (Which is so much much better than years ago when I thought things like, oh, shit, what if they ask me for proof of insurance?)
"Driver's license," the cop said.
"Here you are!" (Hey, I was legal and excited to prove it.)
Work visas will make you cry, who knew?
And then I started bawling my eyes out. The ticked sucked yes, but I was crying like world had ended. I had matured out of turning mole hills into mountains last year (mostly) so I knew the ticket couldn't be it. And then I realized it was that stupid work Visa.
And then, I realized that I want to go to Korea as much as I wanted to stay in the United States. That, I'd regret not going. So I started laughing while I cried.
Tap, tap. I looked up from my place on the floor of my car and hit my head on the steering wheel. Rubbing my head, I rolled down the window.
"Here's your ticket," the officer said. "Erm, are you okay?"
"I've never been better!"
"Really, because I've never had a driver crawl onto the floor of their car before. And the laughing and crying thing is weird."
"I do floors," I replied. "My blog readers can testify to that. The rest is subjective."
"Okay, well, if you need some help, you know, like a straight jacket, I can arrange it."
"No thanks," I said, taking the ticket. "I'm good."
And I drove away, laughing and crying.