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Here’s the funny thing: once you start buckling up every single time, you join a secret club. The club of people who don’t get fines. The club of people who don’t get internal organ rearrangements in a crash. It’s a boring club, but the membership fee is zero dollars.
I have a friend—let’s call him Dave—who got a ticket for this. He was driving two blocks to get coffee. Two. Blocks. He saw the flashing lights, and he knew. He just sat there, sighing, while the officer wrote him up. His latte cost him $130 that day. That’s a $130 coffee. Was it worth it? He says no, but he also still does it sometimes. People are stubborn.
Why are we so stubborn about this one simple thing? It’s not hard. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s literally a strap. You pull it, you click it, you go. It takes less time than finding your car’s Bluetooth.
A Plea from a Worried Friend
Look, I’m not your mom. I’m not a cop. I’m just someone who likes you and wants you to keep your face attached to your skull. The fine is just the cherry on top of the awful sundae that is a car accident without a belt.
Do you want to explain to your friends why you have a permanent dent from the steering wheel? Or worse, do you want your family to have to identify you by your dental records? Too dark? Sorry. But it’s the truth. Exaggeration? Barely.
The fine for not wearing a seatbelt is small compared to the fine of a hospital stay. Or a funeral. So just do it. Click it. Right now. If you’re reading this while driving, please stop. That’s a whole other fine. But really, just buckle up.
Your wallet will thank you. Your spine will thank you. And I’ll thank you, because then I don’t have to worry about my coffee buddy turning into a human cannonball. Deal?
