I found this out about two months ago, and not in the way I wanted to.
I was en route to downtown Clarkesville for some specific task I can’t recall when radiant, blue lights flickered and flashed. I’d passed a Habersham County Sheriff’s Deputy’s patrol car and now he was coming fast.
They’re just responding to something, I thought at the time.
What’d I do?
It can’t be me.
Assuming the officer would pass and go on to respond to a call, I took a swift turn and pulled over to the roadside in a highly congested area along a sharp turn. Probably one of the worst spots imaginable.
It was Thursday, I believe, though this sudden predicament had been set in motion the previous Sunday, when I’d attempted to pay the toll for the registration of my vehicle’s tag. The bank, for whatever reason, would not allow for the transaction of the payment until Friday.
All right then, I thought, if I can just get around for five days without being detected, I should be fine.
I’d forgotten about this entirely even as I pulled over and now, assessing in my rearview the speed and direction of the flashing blue lights – which by this point were honed in on my vehicle like a heat-seeking missile – something told me he was coming for me.
He was.
He pulled up behind my car – still pulled off on an extremely active curve between Demorest and Clarkesville. Still oblivious to the pending payment on my tag, possible violations ran across my brain.
Speeding? Was I? Maybe.
It was possible.
I was rifling through the interior of my vehicle in search of all the necessary papers when the officer approached me at the driver’s side window.
“Sir, do you know why I stopped you?”
“I’ve been considering the possibilities,” I said. “Was I going over?”
“You’re tag is – ”
At that moment it all came back. Just one more day and the payment would be processed, I tried to explain to the officer, who was already explaining to me that his license plate reader on his cruiser is very accurate, and said that it notified him of my expired tag the moment I passed.
“I believe it,” I said, thinking to myself about how I’d long-wondered whether those readers actually worked at all.
I pleaded to no avail. He was not going to let me off, and since I was the reason he had to chase me down and exit his vehicle, I didn’t blame him.
I told him I understood, and then I apologized for the very dangerous and poor place I’d decided to pull over.
He was kind and understanding as he promptly delivered my citation, and he gave me the gist of my rights and the details of the legal process before I was released.
The patrol cruiser disappeared in my rearview down a side street long before I pulled into the Ingles parking lot, examining the citation in my lap. A court date (payment due) on June 2.
I still need to pay that…very soon.
For anyone who didn’t know, those license plate readers work.
Don’t be me. Pay for the registration on your tag, maybe even three weeks in advance, or stay off Habersham County roads.
Brain Wellmeier is a staff writer for The Northeast Georgian. Reach him at 706-778-4215 or bwellmeier@TheNortheastGeorgian.com.