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"It started out the same way as always: a cloudless day, guitar solo playing in the background, and \u2014 had I died and gone to heaven? \u2014 a state trooper ahead of me in the passing lane. How could I be so lucky?  I&amp;#039;d spotted him a few exits earlier and slipped in behind, and was following his every zig and zag. With his eyes and radar focused forward, I&amp;#039;d get to my friend&amp;#039;s house in record time. Until, that is, he dropped back. Before I had a chance to really slow down, he was behind me, lights flashing. I pulled over, rolled down the window, and awaited punishment. &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;ve been shadowing me for miles.&amp;quot; I blinked. &amp;quot;Uh, I didn&amp;#039;t mean to. I mean, I&amp;#039;m heading that way anyway....&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Do you know the speed limit?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Uh, 55?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Lucky for you, it&amp;#039;s 65.&amp;quot; He continued banging on about my reckless driving until I felt them: hot tears rolling down my cheeks. &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re crying?&amp;quot; he asked. &amp;quot;Why?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re yelling at me,&amp;quot; I answered. &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re giving me a ticket. So I&amp;#039;m wondering why you need to yell at me as well.&amp;quot; He took off his sunglasses, affected a rather pained look. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not yelling,&amp;quot; he said, his voice softer. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s just that I&amp;#039;m standing on the side of the highway and can&amp;#039;t hear myself.&amp;quot; I wiped my face with the back of my hand. &amp;quot;And I&amp;#039;m actually not inclined to give you a ticket,&amp;quot; he added. &amp;quot;Though I will mention that you hit 83 when you were behind me. Did you not realize I have radar in the back?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;You do? I had no idea.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Yup, I do.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Wait. If I was going 83, that means you were going 83 as well.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Yeah, but the difference is, I&amp;#039;m legally entitled to speed.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s kind of entrapment, isn&amp;#039;t it?&amp;quot; He smiled, ever so slightly. &amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; he said, &amp;quot;I gotta hand it to you. You&amp;#039;re very good on signaling. No more tears, right?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m good.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;OK, then. Do me a favor,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;Watch your speed, keep clear of police cars, and be careful when you pull back out onto the highway. OK?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;OK.&amp;quot;  I did as he said, glancing back as I drove off. Grateful to have kept points off my license. And armed with fresh respect for 360-degree radar. Chat with GH&amp;#039;s favorite bloggers every Friday at facebook.com/goodhousekeeping Meredith Ogilvie-Thompson has worked in England and South Africa and now lives in New York with her sons. Visit her at mogilviethompson.typepad.com "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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