A couple of days ago, while driving to work in the auxiliary car, I was pulled over.
But before we get to that, it’s important to note that I was not driving the evil SUV, because that is the vehicle that holds the carseat for Leta. After a sleepless night, we decided that I should leave the evil SUV home in case Heather had to go to pick up her prescription(s). This was after taking the whole family minus the Former Congressman to the doctor so that Heather could be looked at for her second bladder infection (PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT WITH SUGGESTIONS ON HOW TO TREAT/AVOID BLADDER INFECTIONS). It was, in the parlance of days, a bad one.
So I’m driving the auxiliary car. The black 2000 Civic. The one that was paid off in two years. The one that I got when I married Heather. While on the freeway, I notice one of those unmarked cars of the American make that screams Senior Law Enforcement Official. I’m following my usual policy of passing said car (he was doing 68 mph in a 65, so I took it up to 71 to pass) and notice that he immediately stays right with me for about 5 miles. I’m thinking that I’ll just exit one exit early and he’ll go out to wherever there’s serious shit going down and I’ll just be a little late to work.
I make a turn off the exit onto a surface street and BOOM. Lights, siren, the whole works. I pull over. He’s awfully cautious walking up to the car. I check my phone for the time. Shit. I realize, at this moment of checking the side mirror to see him come up stealthily, that I don’t have proof of insurance, registration and that the tags are expired. If they did a vehicle check, no one with my last name is remotely associated with this car. I believe at this moment that I will be getting a rather hefty ticket.
After the pleasantries where I handed him my ATM card instead of my license and he brusquely responds with “What is this?,” he informs me that the vehicle matches one that was involved in a bank robbery. He also informs me that the Old Navy Performance Fleece Cap I’m wearing, which was given to me by my wife for Christmas, matches one worn by a robber. He also tells me that he could, if he were so inclined, impound the car on the spot because I didn’t have any paperwork, only my Driver’s License. “You’d be walking, ok?”
P.S., Mel Gibson’s latest “film” does not have me wanting God back in my life. All media outlets, please take note and adjust your bullshit accordingly.