No one likes getting pulled over. People will literally do anything to get out of a ticket. What these people did, however, worked.
An Awful Drive Home.
I saw a red car running red lights as if they weren’t there. The driver appeared to be a woman and it was just past dusk, so it would’ve been hard for her to say she missed seeing all the red lights. I finally pulled her over on a neighborhood street and she complied by pulling over the side of the road. When I walked up to the driver’s side of her car, she rolled down her window and looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. My first thought was that she was going to try to use tears as a means to get out of this ticket. I asked for all of her information and if she knew why I stopped her and how many red lights she went through? She looked down embarrassed, tears still streaming down her face and answered very softly “no I didn’t.” I asked her why was she crying and if everything was okay? She replied that about a month earlier her husband had died unexpectedly and suddenly. He was only about 35 and this was her first day back to work. As she got into her car and began to drive home, she realized this was her first night to drive home to an empty house and the reality of it all devastated her. At that point I knew I’d be writing no tickets and asked where she lived. I told her I would follow her home to make sure she didn’t have an accident and I did. I walked her inside, talking all the way, asking about her job and home. Once inside, I asked her to do me one favor and if she ever felt tears coming on again, to pull over to a parking lot, have a good cry and head back home when she could keep her mind on her driving. Now was this the most dramatic traffic stop I was ever engaged in? No. But it moved me all the same. Source
“I Pulled Myself Over.”
Sun reflected off a skyscraper window downtown Minneapolis and I ran a red. I blinked once getting through the light and noticed a cop in my rearview (he stopped at the light.) Oh shit, I thought, noticing the red light and the cop. I pulled MYSELF over. The light changed and the cop pulled up next to me. I already had my window down. He started the conversation: “Are you pulling yourself over?” “Yes,” I said. “The sun was in my eyes–I didn’t mean to run that light.” He thought about it briefly. “Okay, just be careful.” He drove away. Source
Keeping His Word
Context is key, so you need to know that this friend, named Bob, was an airline pilot who held an ATP (Airline Transport Pilot license). He also was semi-professional drag racer who held an NHRA license. And, of course, a regular state driver’s license. Bob got pulled over for speeding and a nice gentleman of an officer, who was clearly close to retirement age walked up to the window and said, “You were going pretty fast back there. I need to see your driver’s license, your race driver license, and your jet pilot license.” Bob was horrified that the cop had all that info on him. He worried about consequences to his professional and semi-professional careers. He dug through his wallet and finally said to the cop, “Well, here’s my jet pilot license. Here’s my race driver license. And here’s my driver’s license.” The cop stared at all three for a bit then started laughing. “I’ve been pulling people over for decades and, to break the tension, I always ask them for their jet pilot license, race driver license, and driver’s license. When they can only pull out a driver’s license, I then say, ‘Well, that’s too bad, because to drive that fast you need all three of those licenses, so I’m going to have to give you ticket. If you had all three I could let you go.'” “You’re the first person who has ever had all three, so to be true to myself I’m going to let you go.” Source
“Jay Leno and two big guys.”
One day Jay Leno was driving his McLaren F1 in LA. Two big guys with tattoos and a thick voice approached him enthusiastically. They asked him about the unusual 3 seater interior, Gordon Murray (designer of the car) and other stuff related to the car. Being the nice guy he is, Leno invited them for a ride. So here they are, Leno and two big tattooed guys in a McLaren F1 on the mountain roads, cruising way over the speed limit. The cops pull them over and Leno is thinking how bad an idea this was, from the start. The officer approaches and one of the two big guys takes out his police badge. Turns out, the two were undercover police officers. So nothing happens and they get away with that speeding ticket. In the meantime, Leno is feeling bad for judging those guys (I told you, he’s a nice person). Source
Pardon My French.
Back in the mid-80s, as a freshly graduated French engineer, I landed an internship in the Silicon Valley. When I arrived there, I rented a Chevy from Rent A Wreck – this was during the first mandate of our first openly socialist president, François Mitterand, who had already managed to divide the exchange rate by 2, so I picked the least expensive wreck I could find. I was pretty new to US traffic lights: I tended to stop on the other side of intersections out of the belief that traffic lights were where you had to stop, like at home. But I quickly learned. It was also my first automatic gear box. And when – on a rainy day (yes, it does happen in California too) – I realized I would stop once again on the wrong side of an intersection, I saved my life by squashing the clutch with my left foot while standing on the brakes with my right foot, only to realize after a full 360 degree spin that there was only one pedal. But my progress was visible: I had stopped in the middle of the intersection instead of the other side, and motorists around me were all honking in celebration. After a week or so, I managed to tame my wreck and got more confident at riding it. This is when I fell into my first speed trap, on Stevens Creek bld. I was coming back from the office at a leisurely pace, safely less than twice the 35mph speed limit, when I saw a biker cop pointing a (radar) gun at me. In the 80’s, the French police were still using radars the size of a family BBQ conspicuously planted on the roadside, so the notion of a handheld radar was quite foreign to me. Naturally I ducked behind the steering wheel to avoid being hit by the bullets. When the policeman came to me after having pulled me over, I saw he was clearly surprised by my reaction. I knew I had probably slightly exceeded the speed limit but I decided to play it slightly dumb. The cop asked for my driver’s license and whether I knew what the speed limit was. I handed him my French license, and while he was trying to decipher the pink papers that had survived several erasure attempts by my wash machine, I explained him with my thickest French accent that “yes sir, I know zat ze spid limit is firty-five, but sir, I was well under it! look at ze counter, I was only at ze 25!” with my finger pointed at the corresponding 2.5 tick on the RPM dial. The cop tried to argue that I was looking at the wrong dial, but I showed him that the other dial had European km/h marks (Look sir, zeese are kilometre per hour!) plus some weird other numbers I didn’t know about and that I surely was looking at the American dial. He then entered into a longwinded explanation about RPM vs speed that achieved to convince him that I was a near idiot and that these Europeans shouldn’t even have the right to drive here. In the end, I thanked him for his helpful explanations and promised to look at the other dial in the future. He didn’t seem too convinced, but he did let me go without a ticket. Source
It Was The Tree!
When I lived in Washington State, part of my commute was a section of highway that ran past several logging tracts. It was a whole lot of nothing, and I routinely “dropped the hammer” on this section. So it’s 1am, I see some oncoming headlights, and just as I’m turning my brights down, the radar detector goes off. Crap. State Patrol. So I slow down, and sure enough, I see him pulling a U turn in the rearview mirror. About a quarter mile further, there’s an access road for one of the logging areas. So I pull over, turn on the hazards, and wait. He comes rolling up, and turns on his lights after pulling in behind. Trooper walks up to my window, and says “Sir I was going to follow you and see if you sped back up. You didn’t have to pull over.” I tapped the radar detector. “Yeah, well, when this went off, I was the only car on the road, what am I gonna blame it on, a tree?” He laughed so hard I thought he was going to collapse. No ticket. Source
Turn The Table.
In my hometown to make the traffic rules strict, the whole of the traffic police department were provided with speed guns. As fate would have it, one day I was caught red handed. I was stopped by the roadside and a long lecture was given on traffic rules and road safety. As he pulled out the note pad to cut me a ticket, I protested. Then he showed me the reading recorded in the speed gun. Instantly something struck in my head. I asked him how he was holding that gun while taking the reading. He looked at me suspiciously and then hesitatingly showed me how he did it. Me: (imitating him) So you took the reading from this angle? He: That’s right. Me: Do you even know the correct way to use this? Did you have any formal training? He: (slightly taken aback) Yes. Me: I don’t think so. Do you even know how it works? What is a Doppler Effect? He: I…I…can’t remember exactly but… Me: (holding my head) OH MY GOD!! I can’t believe this. (After some more overacting) Either you let me go or give the phone number of your senior officer. Sensing no other way out he had to let me go. P.S. He used it the correct way. Source
Wasn’t Expecting That Ending.
I had a lady asian friend. In her mid 20’s driving her GT mustang doing 100km/hr in 60 zone, as she was running late for her after noon meet with her friend. She noticed she had a cop car following her, instead of slowing down she decides to go even faster on this residential road, as her license had been suspended due to her black points and unpaid fines. Surely enough the patrol car turns on the lights and siren and trying to wave her to pull over. After about 10 minutes of this chase through streets of toronto (very rare scene in toronto), She notices a general hospital on the right and she pulls right into the emergency ward like a scene out of a movie and she pretends to pass out. As you can imagine a cop car just after her pulling in with all the lights and sirens, emergency ward people come out to attend to the young girl who seems to have lost conscious. married with 2 kids and been together now for 25 years. The young police man who previously was chasing her with anger had now changed to panic and worried after seeing the young lady. After being admitted to the hospital and playing unconscious for 2 to 3 hours, she was set free and they actually started dating. They eventually got married and had kids together. Thought that was a clever way to get out of a speeding ticket. Source
Justice Truly Served.
We were returning home. There was a fairly tight S curve, with a merge from an overpass, and then an entry onto a narrow bridge. As we approached the merge, a car meandered into our lane. To avoid hitting him, hubby did a quick lane change, and sped up to get away from this person who had entered traffic without looking, or seeing. About 2 km up the other side of the river bank, we got pulled over. And we were only about 2km from home! The cop asked hubby what the big rush was. Hubby explained how he had to do an evasive procedure to avoid a collision at the merge on the S curve, and how he just wanted to get away from a driver that was not paying attention before another accident happened – as we were so close to home. The cop did admit he had also seen that maneuver. Just then the inattentive driver dawdled by – going about 20km/hr below the speed limit. Hubby said “That’s the car that cut me off!” The cop told us “Gotta go!”. He jumped in his cruiser, booted up the hill. When we passed him to get home, the cop had his ticket book out giving the other driver the summons. Source
What’s That Smell?
A few years ago a friend of mine had eaten something a little dodgy at a party he was attending. He decided to leave early and on the way home he ended up with stomach cramps and great urge for explosive diarrhea whilst driving on the freeway. He thought if he sped up he may just make it home in time. When he heard the siren and saw flashing lights he knew he wasn’t going to make it. It happened….in the car…..in his pants. Apparently it was quite horrific. He pulled over, the cop asked him to put the window down and he shook his head no. The cop asked again and made the sign of winding the window down, he shook his head no. The cop got very frustrated and showed him his ticket book an insisted that he put his window down. He finally put the window down and the cop leaned in and in an authoritative tone asked why my friend was speeding. My friend didn’t have to say anything as the smell hit the cop fair and square in the face. He took two steps back from the car and grimaced, told him to put the window up and leave. No ticket, just an awful way to beat the fine though. Source
Quick Thinking.
A good friend of mine told this story about his sister, let’s call her Leila. So Leila and her friend were driving home after a party, both a little drunk, when they saw the police carrying out alcohol checks about a hundred metres ahead of them. They knew they would be in trouble if they went ahead, but they also couldn’t turn their car around and drive away because that would be suspicious. That’s when they came up with something genius. They just stopped the car, and went to sit in the back seats, leaving the door at the driver’s seat open, and they waited. After a few minutes, the police noticed that the car wasn’t moving any longer so a cop came to the car and asked what was going on. Then Leila said: ” My friend and me are drunk. That’s why we asked someone at the party to drive us home in my car, but as soon as our driver saw you, he stopped the car and ran away. Now we’re sitting here, and we can’t go home because we don’t have a driver anymore.” The policeman asked her if they knew the driver’s name, but Leila said no, so he had no other choice but to drive Leila and her friend home himself. Source
Corny Jokes For The Win.
I have heard two good ones from my Uncle who is a retired police officer. 1. Sir, do you have any idea how fast you were going? Driver answers with an excited yes. Cop asked the driver, why he was in such a hurry. The gentleman responded with this, “My Ex wife left me for a police officer and when I saw your patrol car, I was afraid you were trying to bring her back.” 2. Cop arrives at female driver’s side door with his ticket book in hand. He asked the lady if she knew why he was stopping her. The lady responded saying , “Yes, you are selling tickets to the NC State Trooper’s Ball.” The Cop responded before thinking, “Ma’am NC State Troopers don’t have balls.” He closed his ticket book and walked away. Source
Hopefully The Cop Has A Sense Of Humor.
I was 19 at the time and had been studying for finals at a friend’s house. I’d fallen asleep on her sofa and woke up at just after 3 am. I was still living at home at the time and knew my parents were probably freaking out as I’d not come home by my usual midnight. I didn’t have a curfew at 19, but I would always communicate with my folks and let them know if I was going to be late so they wouldn’t worry. I hurriedly got my books together, got in my car and headed home along a stretch of Interstate 5, close to the bridge that crosses the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon into Vancouver, Washington. There were zero cars on the freeway except for the occasional semi, so I took advantage of the empty road and hauled ass. All of a sudden, just before I hit the I-5 bridge and seemingly out of nowhere, here comes Oregon State Patrol, on my bumper like white on rice. I slowed down and immediately pulled over. My heart was pounding – I was going 85 in a 55. I had never done anything remotely immoral much less illegal up to that point in my life and was terrified of getting in trouble for any reason. The officer came to my window and asked if I knew how fast I’d been driving. The only thing I could think of was something my dad would say when my mom gave him a hard time about speeding, so I replied, “I’m just going with the flow of traffic, officer.” He looked around him at the empty freeway and said, “Miss, you’re the only car on the road.” For some reason my inner smart-ass thought that would be the perfect time to make an appearance and I said, “Well, I’m setting the pace!” Thankfully, the officer had a sense of humor. He started laughing and was kind enough to let me go with a warning. Source
