The Bucs returned a kickoff for a touchdown.

And I was there to see it.

All in all, it was a memorable day: I saw Michael Spurlock jet his way into Buccaneers history; I saw my Bucs win the division… again; and, of course, Ian was the victim of collateral damage from an accident on the way home and the police took two hours to get to the wreck.

Funny how they’re always around when they want to give me a ticket, but when I need them they take their own sweet time. Ridiculous.

It was 3:00 A.M. and I was completely burned out. I had just gone to Halloween Horror Nights with the gang over in Orlando, and I just wanted to be home. As I came across the Courtney Campbell Causeway, I noticed a white car tailing me. And, like clockwork, when the end of the bridge came and went, his lights burned like bright red and blue firecrackers.

This time, though, the fireworks show only cost me $185.50. See? I’m saving money!

Man, I hate the Highway Patrol. They’re like cops, but even more worthless since they only patrol the roadways.

I’m really glad they focus so intently on ruining the days of people going 76 in a 60 on a deserted highway in the black shroud of night as opposed to, you know, tracking down mother rapers, father stabbers… and father rapers.

Yes, at least Arlo Guthrie can make light of any situation.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Ian is my closest friend and all, but we have somewhat of a brotherly rivalry. I had fully expected him to ridicule me and pull an eternal “I told you so.” I just would rather have him in the dark on the issue. I told both of my parents, distinctly and deliberately, to refrain from mentioning this blunder to anyone. Then Dad let it slip.

I stormed off, angry at the fact that I was so close to getting off the hook, and in the interim I assume they explained my logic to my brother, which is why he has been a pretty good sport about this entire thing.

So, now that the one person I didn’t want to know has discovered the unbearable truth without much adverse reaction, I can tell everyone. So there you go.

I look at it this way: getting a speeding ticket is sort of a necessary step in my own self betterment. For the time being, at least, I will watch my speed.

And if I had to get a ticket, at least I was going a somewhat humorous speed: 69.