Yesterday, I was driving home from work down Flatbush Avenue. As I approached the Prospect Park Arch, a police officer that was walking next to the cars that were waiting for the light to change noticed that I was not wearing my seatbelt and decided to pull me over. When he asked for my license and registration – I showed him my badge – and he apologized for pulling me over.

I may not realize it, but my job as a Press Secretary – or a Press Officer which is my actual title – does carry some sort of clout that I usually tend to forget. But considering that I carry a gold two star badge – I guess I have more authority then I give myself credit for – but there are some instances like yesterday that remind me of my position in City government.

Another reminder of the authority that comes with this job came about a year ago. I was driving to work and I approached the Gowanus Expressway to find the usual traffic that comes with the morning commute. Not in the mood to sit in the traffic with my fellow “nine-to-fivers” – I decided to chance it and pulled onto the service road to gain a little edge on the traffic. When I came around the bend approaching Industry City – there was a police officer waiting for me and signaling for me to pull over. When I showed him my badge – he simply asked me to obey the traffic laws in the future and told me to carry on.

But of the very few instances where my badge has gotten me out of a jam – my personal favorite one took place two states away from my jurisdiction.

I was in Pennsylvania with my ex-girlfriend and we were looking for a hotel. At this point, it was two in the morning and all we wanted to do was get some sleep. After searching for a hotel for close to a half hour with no luck, we came across a place called The King George Inn – which we now know was not a hotel – but a restaurant. Thinking it was a hotel at the time, we circled the entire building looking for the office and wound up going the wrong way down a one way street – and found ourselves facing a Pennsylvania State Trooper – who immediately pulled us over.

When she tried to get out of the car, the officer used the loud speaker and told her to stay in the car. He then approached the vehicle and asked her for her license and registration. Even though I was only the passenger, I handed him my badge, told him who I was and that we were simply looking for a hotel – and hoped he would realize that we were not doing anything wrong – but simply wanted to get a room. After looking at the badge for a moment, he took it and her license back to his squad car. After what seemed like an eternity, he returned to the vehicle with a much more pleasant look on his face. He handed her back her license and gave me back my badge. He then informed me that he was not going to give us a ticket, and asked me if we still needed a hotel. When I said yes – he told me that there was a hotel about five miles from here and that he had called them and reserved us a room. Then, if that was not amazing enough – he asked us if we would like a police escort to the hotel. Here I was two states away from where my badge meant anything, and I have a State Trooper who pulled us over for driving the wrong way down a one way street not giving me a ticket – but escorting me to a hotel that he called to reserve me a room.

When we arrived at the hotel and I thanked the officer, I went to the desk clerk to register the room. When she asked me for identification – I handed her the badge since it was already out of my pocket and in my hand. After realizing what I gave her – she informed me that my rate of eighty three dollars was now fifty one dollars – because I get the Government rate.

I guess I sometimes forget that this job – and the badge I carry does come with a certain level of authority. I just wish it didn’t take run-ins with the police to refresh my memory.