Are we REALLY what we drive?

I received an email from an old boyfriend I haven’t spoken to in years.  It read,  “I heard you’re married and cruising around town in a white corvette.  Is any of it true?”

Uh, yea.

Yesterday I was driving with my 16 year old nephew heading south on a road with a 30 MPH speed limit. A ludicrously slow limit.

A police officer drove past heading in the opposite direction. As I put on my seatbelt (I do this after making eye contact with men with guns) I noticed break lights in my rear view mirror.  

Charmaine:  “You don’t think he’s turning around for ME do you?”

Gunnar:  “Uh, yea.”

Charmaine:  “That’s ridiculous.  I wasn’t speeding.  And how would HE know?”

Gunnar:  “Duh... it’s his job.”

Charmaine:  “Shit.”

I took an immediate right uphill winding through a maze of a convoluted residential streets.   

Chamaine:  “Should I turn right? We've backtracked. He must be miles down the road.

Gunnar: “No turn left. TRUST ME!!!”  

Against my better judgment I did.  Then BAM, the officer appeared driving in the opposite direction.  How did he do that?  He wasn't behind me SO/// he couldn't pull me over.

Charmaine:  "Gunnar, you are a genius"

I stared into the eyes of the cop chasing us... and burst into laughter. 

Gunnar: "Oh my GOD!  We were in a slow-speed chase.  This is the coolest thing that has EVER happened to me in my entire LIFE!  

Sensing this was a teaching moment, I gazed sternly upon him and said,

“Don’t tell your mother.”

Does every lad in a conventional town being raised by a traditional family where women bake cookies and don’t talk back, NEED a rebellious middle aged Aunt?

Don’t worry, I’m not getting a tattoo or anything.