Margaret rolled down her window and greeted the young officer with a warm smile.
“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?” he asked.
“Oh, son, at my age, I don’t even check the speedometer. I just keep up with traffic,” she replied calmly.
The officer glanced at the empty road. “There is no traffic.”
She chuckled. “Well then, I must be winning!”
When asked for her license, Margaret searched through her purse—tissues, candies, even an old coupon—but couldn’t find it right away.
“I may have left it at home,” she said lightly. Then, with a playful tone, she added, “But I don’t really need one.”
“Why not?” the officer asked, raising an eyebrow.
She leaned in slightly. “Because I don’t technically own this car.”....
