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.
M.R. Jordan is a writer, editor, sporadic blogger, and lover of beer. Lives in South Korea with her two cats, Bear and Geumbi.
Bear (Gom in Korean) then (above) now (below)
Geumbi (Gold in English)... then (above) and now (below).