I hate getting pulled over!

JB was on call last night, and I decided to bring him dinner. Unlike Mayo where you can get food anytime of day, this tiny hospital doesn't have anything available for those late night workers on the weekends. (Tara, don't call the hospital cute. This hurts JB's feelings. :)

Traditional Wendi-dinner means I don't cook. I decided to go to Burger King on base. For some reason, the Burger King on base closes early on Sundays. 7pm and shut up tight.

So I headed off base. I called JB and asked him what he wanted instead. Then I waited for him to check with the other gal I was going to pick up dinner for -- the junior he was working with.

When I passed the Sonic and still hadn't gotten a call back, I decided to pull into the gas station and wait for him to call me. Where else was I supposed to go? So I pulled into a spot and waited. I noticed a cop there, but he left the parking lot right after I got there.

A few moments later, I realized there was a Burger King right next door! I could just do that one since I already had the order for Burger King. So I left my spot and headed to Burger King only to see lights flashing behind me.

Don't you hate that feeling? My stomach just sunk. Since I had just pulled out, I knew I wasn't speeding. What I did know was that I had sat in a parking lot and that we had expired tags.

Why do we have expired tags? Because we can't find our title! We have been trying to find it to no avail. We tracked down the right place in Minnesota to request one, only to find out that we never had our tag in Kentucky transferred to Minnesota. So we had to track down the correct place in Kentucky. They needed us to prove that we didn't owe taxes on the car for the last four years! So I had to dig out proof we had moved to Minnesota. They also needed us to get the police department to verify the readings on our odometer. Both those things are done, and we have the paperwork to send! We just don't have a new title yet to get new tags.

Anyways, the cop comes out and asks for my license. I give it to him, and he asks why I cut through a parking lot, waited for him to leave, and then left myself. I explained to him about my search for dinner for my husband, and surprisingly, he bought it. But then he told me my tags were expired. Sigh . . . yes, I knew that. (Ironically, JB got a speeding ticket a month ago with no mention of his tags!)

I explained to him why we don't have new tags (a shorter version than the one above), and he actually believes me on that too. Not that I was lying but both stories could be seen as contrived. He tells me to get a temporary tag (I didn't know you could do that) or not drive the car. Okay. Will do. JB went this morning. They wouldn't give it to him. Said he needed some other paperwork we need to track down. I'll try to go back tomorrow.

All that for a burger! Geesh!