When my mother asked me to drive her to my cousin's for some stupid party you can understand why I immediately said no. She pulled the "I don't drive at night card", so of course guilt got the better of me. Off we went to the suburbs of Philadelphia for a few hours of torture. Being that I was twenty years old and needed the day to end as quickly as possible, I decided to drive Sybil's burgundy Honda as fast as possible down the NJ turnpike. The harder I pressed the gas pedal the more the engine screamed which also helped to drown out Sybil telling me cousins weren't nice. When I hit about 105, I caught the attention of a NJ State Trooper. Sitting on the side of the road I waited for the trooper to walk over. This was clearly all Sybil's fault. Before the cop could get a word out Sybil screamed the following in a hysterical voice:
"My sister died of cancer six months ago. I haven't gotten over the loss."
The trooper just looked at her and asked me for my license and registration.
That ticket was like three hundred bucks!
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