The other day I got a ticket. First one in 15 years. I can’t say I didn’t deserve it and considering all the times I got away with stuff, I guess I was due. But there was something about this experience that was just plain wrong.

Here’s how it went down. A nice, young, good looking police officer pulls me over and says I entered an area where only the metro buses can go. I guess I got confused with all the other cars there. So I go wading through the paperwork that has piled up in my glove compartment looking for the most recent version of my registration. He says to give him a shout when I find it. Ten minutes later I hand him an expired slip, tell him it really is all up to date—I just filed the paperwork at home. He says okay.

This next part is new to me. He says, “What color eyes do you have?” To which I turned and smiled up at him and replied, “They’re brown.” Then he did it. He asked me how much I weighed. I paused. Then in total shock said, “What? Are you serious? Not-uh.” He looked ashamed (as he should) and said he had to ask. I then replied, “Reeeeaaally?” The tone of that last statement was part disbelief and part pleading. So I swallowed any remaining ounce of self-worth I had and answered him. And in three months if I try really hard, I might just lose enough to be at the number I told him.

Just now as I’m writing this, I have the horrid realization that not only did I have to tell a complete stranger—a man—what my weight was, but he WROTE IT DOWN. It’s now in triplicate filed away in some courthouse for the world to see. Holy crap.

As you can probably tell, I’m more upset about the whole weight question then getting the ticket. And I’m not sure how much that’ll cost me yet, so I think it’s time for a xanax and relaxing bath.

The incident ended with me getting “off” for not having my registration paperwork in the car but I did get the other ticket which was for “disobeying a sign.” It’s not like the sign stood in front of me pointing its finger saying, “Dawn, I’m warning you, don’t go in there or officer X is going to give you a ticket!” I didn’t stick out my tongue and willfully go by it on purpose. It was a mistake. And now I feel like some little kid who’s being punished. I thanked the officer and then said, “Wait, not thank you, I mean…” He smiled and said, “I know what you mean, it’s okay.” Hmmph. Maybe for him. Oh well, at least I didn’t drive through a mall.