Last fall, I drove to the small shopping center nearest our neighborhood to pick up groceries at Walmart. The six- or seven-mile drive from my house takes me on a winding, county road, over the interstate, and onto a busy city street. I don’t really pay too much attention to the speed limit but stay up with the rest of the traffic.
I purchased my groceries then stopped at my favorite store, TJ Max. They have great buys and unique stuff for the house as well as clothing, shoes, and makeup. I have to forcibly steer myself from the racks with purses. I absolutely don’t need another one. I’ve got at least 20 and that was after I made a trip to the Foundry Thrift Store.
I took the usual route home, catching a glimpse of the four-lane interstate as I passed over it. Cars sped in both directions traveling at what appeared to be ninety miles an hour. But in actuality, our speed limit here is seventy.
From the freeway, the drive took me back on the winding county road to my neighborhood. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and I rolled down the window. Then I glanced at my speedometer and gasped. I was traveling at seventy-three miles an hour. No! I looked in my rearview mirror, and a truck followed me only a car link behind. I slowed and the guy passed me. Fine, if he wanted to go eighty on a fifty-mile per hour road, that was fine with me.
I looked at my speedometer again and now I was going sixty. I couldn’t take the turn into my neighborhood at that speed. Then I discovered the problem. My speedometer was set on kph. How that happened I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because we just got a new-to-us car. When I arrived home, I calculated 73 kph, the speed I traveled when the truck was behind me. I was only going forty-five, well under the limit of 50. I wasn’t a candidate for a speeding ticket after all. Right?