Today I finally ended my flight from justice.

It all started when we lost our mail key back in October. We went several weeks without checking our mail, which apparently meant that we didn’t live there anymore, according to the US Postal Service. We all had a lot of mail returned to sender, and among that mail was my car registration tags. Of course, I had no idea that this had happened, so when my tags didn’t show up, in classic Nate Kartchner fashion, I didn’t worry about it. And for months and months, it didn’t matter. Even after my stickers had long since expired, I avoided being pulled over. Finally, after months of driving with expired stickers, an officer pulled me over for having an expired registration. Fortunately, my car really was registered, so he let me go on my way, warning me to get my stickers because “you stick out like a sore thumb.”

Then, about a week later, I was pulled over again. This time was a bit more dramatic because as I was looking for my insurance card, I sliced my finger open on a razor blade I had been using to scrape a sticker off of my car. The cop was pretty nice and let me off really quickly, saying only “you need to get those stickers replaced. You stick out like a sore thumb.” I think that they probably teach police officers to say this in traffic cop school to demoralize noncompliant citizens. I thanked him by waving my bloody finger at him and we went on our way.

This is where things started to go south for me. One happy Saturday, not too long after the second traffic stop, some clown rear ended my car. When the cop was doing his accident report, he asked for my proof of insurance, which I was unsuccessful in finding, although I didn’t cut myself this time. Needless to say, even though I had already sustained emotional and spiritual injuries as a result of the accident, the officer issued me a ticket for driving without proof of insurance. I was instructed to appear with my proof no less than 14 but no more than 21 days after the accident on threat of having a warrant issued for my arrest after the requisite period had ended. Needless to say, in classic Nate Kartchner fashion, I didn’t worry about it, even when it had been over 30 days since the accident. In fact, it was kind of fun to think that I had a warrant out for my arrest. Cuz I’m bad, you know?

Shortly thereafter, I had my birthday. I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that my driver’s license expired, but, in classic Nate Kartchner style I just didn’t worry about it. It wasn’t until after my birthday that I realized that I had a lapsed driver’s license, a warrant for my arrest, driving a car that two cops had said “stuck out like a sore thumb.” It was just like begging to get arrested. But don’t worry, I didn’t take care of it. Instead, I just drove really carefully. And I avoided cops like the plague. In one case, I chose to drive around the block rather than pull up where a police officer could have seen my expired tags.

Finally, after several weeks of this, a started to get paranoid. To make a long story short(er), I skipped Calculus to get new stickers and clear up my warrant. After 3 hours, 3 different government buildings, and some flirtation with a desk clerk to get bumped up in line, I was feeling a lot better. And today, I finally renewed my driver’s license. It’s nice to be on the right side of the law again. In fact, I think that that satisfaction shines through on my new driver’s license picture (which looks pretty dang good, I think.) Needless to say, I think I’ll keep my nose clean for a while.

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