The student news site of Naperville North High School

The North Star

The student news site of Naperville North High School

The North Star

The student news site of Naperville North High School

The North Star

My run in with the 5-O

Click it or ticket, my friends

By Opinions Editor James Wendt

Last Friday, I was arrested on the way home from school. Okay, I was not arrested, but I got a ticket. Okay, I did not get a ticket, but my friend did.

It was a typical Friday. The building we know as prison, and others know as Naperville North was behind us. My two friends and I were stuck on Ogden Avenue in the traffic steadily streaming from the inner circles of Hell, but we were invincible. Here is the thing about invincibility: the police do not recognize it as a legitimate excuse for breaking the law.

Before blue and red illuminated my rear-view mirror, my friend and I were watching something on my phone while I was technically supposed to be driving. If you have ever wanted to hate me, but could not quite find a reason (and believe me there are plenty) look no further. The video I was watching on my phone was my own climate report. I was watching my own face on a tiny screen when police sirens overpowered my phone speakers. And let me tell you, I much prefer the iPhone 5 to the 5-O.

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Generally, I am calm, cool, and collected behind the wheel. However, whenever the police are around, I share the reaction of many innocent civilians. I act as if I am transporting bricks of cocaine across the border. I have no idea if cocaine is actually measured in bricks or in cinderblocks or if the measurements sound like any type of building material at all. But I do know that it is scary enough being around the police without any amount of cocaine, however it is measured.

Snapping back to reality and out of my “Law and Order” daydream, I pulled over to the side of the road and prayed to all of the Gods that I was not the officer’s target. Surely he did not notice me not noticing the road. Curse my vanity! Nevertheless, with a swift honk and a point to a side street, it was clear the cop wanted me. Still praying to a variety of deities, I prepared to meet my maker.

I considered through the facts of my case as the police officer walked slowly toward my window. I had two passengers in my car, and because I have been licensed for under a year and have only conquered a mere 16 years of life, that was illegal. I was also essentially watching television while driving, even if, in my defense, I was stopped at a stoplight. I am not sure if that is illegal, but I know it is definitely frowned upon.

The cop made it to my window and in a rehearsed fashion commanded, “License and proof of insurance, please.”

With hands trembling like my grandpa, I searched through my glove compartment for my insurance card. I handed over my license, and the cop met my insurance card with a disapproving stare. The officer informed me the card was expired. Perfect.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” He inquired.

Was it because I was watching T.V.? I know I am an idiot, I thought. Instead, I answered with a simple, “No.”

“I’m sure your friend does. She is not wearing a seat belt. Do you have your license, young lady?”

The heat was off me. He picked a new target! My sins had been forgiven! Glory be! The cop issued my friend a $60 citation for not wearing her safety belt, and I got off clean. Seemingly everything that went badly for her went great for me. I empathized with her emotions; they were the ones I had felt only moments before. I battled an internal fight between sympathy and celebration. I had been dumb in more ways than one (typical), but the officer only reminded me of my responsibility to ensure everyone buckles. Responsibility. Right.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, seat belts reduce the risk of death by 45%, and cut the risk of serious injury by 50% for drivers and passengers sitting in the front seat. Seat belts really do save lives. I could not find statistics, however, on deaths related to watching climate reports on iPhones. Until then, I will continue staring at my pixilated self, as long as I buckle up first.

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My run in with the 5-O