If something can go wrong, it will. That’s how my life is, that’s how my life always has been. I’ve noticed this ever since grade four when I’d my name would be drawn out of a hat and I’d be partnered up with the weird kid that no one ever wanted to be partnered up with. Or someone had to stay late after class to clean the fish tank. Or we all choose a computer in the computer lab, and mine is the only one that doesn’t work. That’s just how it is.
So, I don’t do things wrong. Or I try not to. Because if something could go wrong, it will.
I’ve thought about shoplifting. I mean, who hasn’t? I’ve also worked at mall for over five years so I know exactly how the system works. I’ll be holding a bra, or a pair of pants, and I’ll register: well, how lucky, these pair of pants have no sensor on them. That means I can just walk out of the store and no buzzer will go off. The possibility of shoplifting is just so easy…. But even registering this I could never bring myself to do it. Partly because I have anxiety and would work myself up into too much of a frenzy, and I’m too moral (even though sometimes I wish maybe I wasn’t), and two: because I know I’d be holding something stupid like a pair of earrings, or nail polish – those things you can never really justify paying over ten dollars for – and I’d feel a tap on the shoulder by a huge security guard.
And that’s how I’d become a criminal. Over some Fiji coloured Essie nail polish.
That’s more or less my life when it comes to breaking the law. Because I don’t. And the one time I do, I get nailed. Hard.
I had just come home from university for the summer, and I finally had access to a car again, and it was beautiful.
Now, I mentioned before I have anxiety, and what’s more anxiety-inducing than roads? I wasn’t used to being behind the wheel, especially after spending eight months without driving. That coupled with two car accidents (neither my fault, this being crucial to add), anxiety and roads go hand-in-hand for me.
There was a car sitting in front of a median, facing oncoming traffic. Just a regular black sedan. And it looked like it was trying to make a left-hand turn, but was way over the appropriate side of the road. What an idiot, I thought. So I sped up to get by this incompetent driver.
Well, turns out the only incompetent driver was me, because it was an undercover cop doing a speed trap. So he immediately gets out of the car, and signals for me to pull over.
Now, maybe if I could explain the situation to him, and let him know I don’t usually speed, especially not in a school zone, while there’s construction going on, he would understand. Maybe if I let him know that his presence in an unorthodox spot, in an undercover car, appeared as an incompetent driver that I was trying to quickly get away from, then he’d let me off without a ticket.
Instead, because it was a school zone, and because I sped up a lot, and there was construction, and construction workers, and I was too anxious in the face of authority to be able to mutter any other words other than I’m sorry, I got stuck with a seven hundred and eighteen dollar speeding ticket.
seven hundred and eighteen dollar speeding ticket.
Have you ever even heard of a speeding ticket so high? Does that even actually happen in real life? Probably not. But, because it’s me, and if anything could possibly go wrong, it will. Because it’s me I have to pay near a thousand dollars to fix a mistake that occurred only because the cop was timing in a spot that disorients drivers… Instead of spending my last spring break of university at a beautiful all-inclusive, soaking up the sun, and relishing in my last Spring Break ever, I’m paying for my anxieties.
I am Murphy’s Law.
When was the last time you broke the law? Did you get caught?