A tale in which the police are successfully evaded (a.k.a. Channeling Marge)

It was a cool, spring evening - mid March to be exact. Spring break time. I, my then boyfriend (now hubby) Tim, and my trusty beloved (and sadly now departed) Saturn were navigating our way from Chicagoland back to the 'burbs of DC.

We had finally emerged out of the vast, boring flatlands of Indiana and Ohio and were winding and weaving through the Pennsylvania mountain passes. Music was blaring. My throat ached from 11ish hours of non-stop chattering over and singing along with the music. We were 19, carefree, and had a car with a good deal of get up and go.

Speed limits? Ha! We didn't need no steenking speed limits. Besides, we were just keeping up with traffic. And I am my father's daughter.

Traffic was slowing slightly as we rounded a bend, under an overpass, so I pressed the gas and squeezed into the left lane to go around the semi I had been happily following. The nose of the car peeked out in front of the truck's cab and, instinct had both of us looking to the right.

Time slowed, then froze as my eyes locked with those of the cop standing on the side of the road. In slow motion, one frame at a time, I saw him point at me, then jerk his thumb over his shoulder.

Busted.

The truck accelerated slightly, obscuring my view. Blocked by the car behind me, the truck beside me, I had nothing to do but continue forward. My stomach was dragging on the pavement underneath the car yet irrepresible giggles worked their way out of my mouth as I realized that there was nowhere safe to pull over. Without really thinking it through, I accelerated, leaving the cops behind.

We zipped on, eyes frantically checking the rearview mirror for telltale lights, until our exit came.

I don't think I actually breathed again until we passed the sign that I cherish still today:

Maryland welcomes you.