How fast was I going, officer?

I like to tempt fate. When I see a police car with a radar gun, I don't slow down. I speed up. In fact, I even wave at the cop as I zoom by, daring him to fire up those flashing lights and come after me. You might call it foolish. I call it living life on the edge, and it has yet to catch up to me. You see, for some reason, no matter how fast I go, the police seem reluctant to ticket a runner.