This? It's my middle finger

Tuesday morning I got up bright and early and hit the road to Jonesville. I had to drive up to the DC metro area to sell my car since no one in Birmingham apparently wants a 2004, beautiful, *sob!, Honda Civic. Jonesville is where Summer is now living and it's about halfway on my trip. So I stayed the night Tuesday, soaking up Ella and her captivating personality, and then got on the road for the rest of the trip yesterday. Not 30 miles into my drive I saw the predictable blue lights flashing in my rearview. I pulled over, heart pounding, and rolled down my window, "Did you pull me over because my tags are expired?! Because I know they are and I'm sorry about that, it's just that I've been living in Alabama and letting this car sit because I'm trying to sell it and I got some temporary tags but those have run out and I'm on my way up to get it sold, I don't usually drive this car!" "No," "Oh, um...why did you pull me over?" "You were speeding," "Really?! How fast?" "75" "Oh...what's the speed limit supposed to be?" "55" $150 ticket! And afterwards I sat in the car blubbering through my sunglasses as he took at least 10 minutes explaining the directions to the interstate. I didn't ask! And further, you have no right to try and be friendly now! You gave up that right after you handed me that LAME yellow piece of paper, you may not soothe your conscience for pulling over a half-lost, directionally challenged girl by giving me directions now mister.