Getting Off with a Warning

Yesterday I got pulled over by a Bremerton black-and-white for making a “rolling stop.” At least that’s what the officer called it. Since I didn’t try hard to talk him out of a citation and don’t fit the stereotypes who sometimes escape with a warning, I was surprised when the officer abruptly let me go without even checking my insurance and registration. Bremerton is having budget problems like other cities in Washington, so you might think city policy would be for traffic officers to issue what could have been a $124 ticket whenever possible. Apparently not.

The intersection at 15th and Wycoff is a 4-way stop. I was hurrying home with some takeout, but I definitely stopped at the stop sign. Maybe not a “one Mississippi” stop, but not a California stop either. Call it a quick but safe stop at a car-free intersection on a lightly traveled (at that time of day) road. The officer didn’t see it that way and barreled out, lights flashing, from wherever he was hidden. Hint: When there are no other cars on the road and you see a police cruiser behind you with flashing lights, you are the likely reason for them. So I pulled off 15th Street directly.

The officer explained why he had pulled me over. My response was that I thought I had stopped at the intersection. Without a comment he went straight to the get-to-know-me phase by asking for my license and registration. Meanwhile the chatter on his portable radio unit continued intermittently. I presented my license and then started rooting through the glove box for proof of insurance and registration. I was getting close to finding them when I heard him say, “Sir, I would like you to do me a favor and pay more attention when you are driving.” To which I replied, “Yes, sir, I will.” And that was it.

So why did he let me go? No idea. Perhaps it was my clean truck and sober looks. Or my spiffy enhanced drivers license (the kind that gets you back into Washington from Canada without a passport). Or possibly an important call requiring his services came in right then on his portable radio, although he didn’t leave our meeting spot in a big hurry. Maybe he was just bored and figured that stopping me for a marginal offense was a better use of time than waiting patiently for the next scofflaw. Whatever went through his mind, I was happy to get off with just a warning.