Drunk on Tea

A siren sounded and red lights flashed behind me. I was scared. A few minutes previous Collin, sitting beside me, had told me I was going 75 mph. I'd slowed down, but maybe not soon enough.
      I waited at the roadside until a young-looking cop came to the door on Collin's side.
      "I pulled you over because you were driving on shoulder."
      "I was?"
      "Yes. Why did you drive on the shoulder?"
      "I didn't know I was."
      "You did." And he told me the two places I had.
      "Maybe because of all the lights."
      "Lights?" That explanation apparently made no sense to him, being accustomed to freeways at night. My other difficulty in driving had been trying to read signs as I moved from Highway 17 to Highway 85 in a series of four confusing turns which took more than 360 degrees around. I merely told him, "I'm unfamiliar with this area."
      I answered many questions, including where I came from (Home), what I did in Santa Cruz (saw some college students and ate dinner), and showed him my license. He still seemed doubtful. I didn't tell him about the fiery-hot authentic Szechuan food I ate and the accompanying green tea.
      Finally I guessed his suspicion. "I only drank tea and water."
      "Do you drink alcohol?
      "Sometimes, but not much because I have gastric reflux." He didn't care about that. I wished I could read the thoughts, the pro's and con's buzzing around in his head.
      "Listen, if you want to do an alcohol test on me, go ahead." I had nothing to hide.
      He told me watch his finger as he moved it from one direction to the other. I had to focus on it as he kept it at my extreme left for the longest minute ever.
      I passed that test and the policeman let us go on our way. Confidence lost, I asked Collin to drive. He volunteered that hadn't noticed I was driving on the shoulder,
      Strange. The only explanation I came up with was this. A few minutes earlier Collin told me, "You should probably speed up." I was driving 50 because I was in unfamiliar territory trying to figure where to turn. I figured Collin was right. My slowness might annoy cars behind me and I put on the gas.
      Then a few minutes later Collin said, "You'd better check your speedometer." I was going over 70 mpg. I slowed down. Perhaps those sudden speed changes plus going on the shoulder twice caught the officer's eye. "Erratic driver--probably drunk," he thought.
      It makes a good story story now, but I was sure embarrassed last night. The moral for me is to not over-react to Collin's comments on my driving.
      Too sensitive. It's a trait I've struggled with all my life. I'm glad to know that God formed me in my mother's womb. I'm not just an accident.