Jersey Girl Fakes Period To Escape Speeding Ticket

“Julie" from Newark, N.J., claims to be a Naughty american because she has a knack for talking her way out of speeding tickets – especially when a good-looking cop is trying to bust her. Her naughtiest instance, she says, is when she flustered one law enforcer by faking having a messy menstrual cycle moment on the road.

Here is her story told in an interview conduct by TNA citizen journalist Chad H.

Chad H.: I haven’t heard of many chicks who’ve faked their period to get out of a traffic stop.

Julie: Yeah, well I’m not like many chicks.

I guess not. Where were you when this occurred? And how fast were you going?

I was on the Pennsylvania Turnpike heading for my aunt and uncle’s place in Pittsburgh on Easter weekend. And I was going about 95 (miles per hour).

Ninety-five? What was the speed limit?

I think it was 65. There was hardly any traffic at all. I think I was going through some Amish area in the sticks, or something.

So what happened?

Well, I wasn’t in any hurry. To tell you the truth, I actually didn’t even want to go. I’d have rather been drinking with my friends in Philly. But I needed to please my family, so I decided to eat ham and eggs all weekend and be bored out of my mind. Luckily there was champagne. Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t in a hurry.

But you said you were going 95.

I was. That’s no hurry for me. See, I’m a car chick. I guess you could call me a motorhead. I don’t fix cars, but I love driving them, especially fast ones. The bigger and faster, the better. So I like to drive fast. Real fast. Ninety-five is actually nothing for me.

What kind of car do you drive?

It’s a 2002 Ford Crown Vic. With a 4.6 liter, V-8 engine. It’s actually a Police Interceptor that I got at an auction. The speedometer goes up to 140 mph, but I can top it out at about 155.

Wow.

Yeah. So I’m just driving along when I see this cop in my rear-view. I don’t panic and throw on the brakes like every other speeder does; I just let up on the gas pedal. But once he got real close to me and held it there, I knew I was fucked. I knew he was checking me on his computer. Then he threw on the cherries.

Now, you say you’ve gotten out of a lot of tickets. So were you nervous at this point, or did you yawn and have everything planned out in your head?

I had somewhat of a plan, but I was still nervous. Anytime a cop’s involved you get nervous. Even if you didn’t do anything wrong.

So what did you do?

Well, my original strategy was to pretend like I didn’t have my license—that I forgot it at home. That works a lot, because cops get lazy and don’t want to do all the investigating to look you up and actually write you a ticket. But I had used that a lot and I’d actually used it twice or so on the Turnpike. So I was kind of nervous that they’d catch me. So I hatched this other idea that I’d pretend like I just got my period and was rushing to the pharmacy because I needed a tampon really bad.

Were you worried that he wouldn’t believe you? Or that he wouldn’t care?

Yeah, but I was banking on the idea that this cop might have a girlfriend or a wife, and give me a break. Plus, I didn’t really think the cop would investigate whether I was telling the truth. I decided to throw a little bitchiness into my act, too, because, well, I was supposed to be on my period.

Yeah. No comment there. So how did it go down?

I rolled down my window, and while I waited for him to come up to me I tapped on the outside of my door, acting really impatient. I had also emptied my purse all over the passenger seat to make it look like I was looking for a tampon or pad. I un-tucked my shirt, teased my hair a bit and put on a frustrated look on my face.

The cop walks up and asks for my license, registration and car insurance. He’s young and good looking, so that’s a good thing for me. Plus I see a wedding ring on his finger. I act real pissy and start scouring through the pile of crap on the passenger seat, as if I’m looking for my information. Of course, I know it’s there.

As I’m sifting through this crap and talking to myself, he says, “Is there a problem, ma’m?” So I just turn to him and snap. I grab my crotch and tell him blood is running down my leg at the moment. He practically took a step back when I snapped, so I knew it was working. He says something like, “Uhh, are you hurt? Do you need help?” I say, “Yeah, if you’ve got a tampon for me.” He’s silent, and I turn back to the pile and grab my license and stuff. I say “Here,” and act all huffy when I give it to him.

Did he give you a ticket then?

No. He took my license and stuff, and then kind of hurried back to his car. He was in it for like, less than a minute, then came back and gave my stuff back to me.

No citation or anything?

Nope. He was like, “Have a nice day. Watch your speed.” I think he was a bit embarrassed and just wanted to get out of there as fast as I did.

That’s great. Would you do it again?

I’ll probably try it again. But only if it’s a guy cop. If it’s a woman, it might be a little tougher.

Was this whole scheme worth it?

It wasn’t worth the Easter weekend at my aunt’s house – I was still bored out of my mind. But it was worth it at the time. It made things a little more exciting.