The Police

I don't know what got me thinking of police, but I currently am. Here are my run-ins with the law.

• Going the wrong way on a one way street.
• Speeding. I never really speed on purpose. I think my speedometer must have malfunctioned.
• Going the wrong way on a one way street (again). So I've done that twice, which I assume is above the national average. I can't explain it. I was not intoxicated in any way, even though that would seem the only possible explanation for it. Both happened a while ago, by the way. Hey, one way streets are tricky.
• Speeding again. I was going 63 when it was posted 55 mph. Seriously. Who get's a ticket for that? Most parts of the country, that would be considered going too slow. That one shouldn't even count. 

I went to traffic school for that. That way it would be taken off my record. I will never do that again. How humiliating. It's humiliating anyway, but just the fact that I'm there for such a weak offense.

"What did you do?"
"Felony hit and run."
"It was my third DUI."
"I rear-ended a cop car."
Me: "Going 63 in a 55." Its just embarrassing.

I've known a few police officers. One let me sit in the back seat, then he left. I couldn't get the door open. I guess that is a standard feature that you wouldn't want their usual back seat passengers to be able to leave at will. I didn't think about it at the time, though. He just walked away laughing, while I was in a panic. Not funny.

I've seen tazers demonstrated. Those things are wicked. They should have those in gun form. Then there wouldn't be all the police killings that make the news. Just the sound they make is frightening. If a policeman ever told me, "Stop, I have a tazer." I'm stopping. I would be scared to death. After first wetting myself, I would immediately stop and lie on the ground, curled up in a little ball. Those things aren't to be messed with.

By they way, I would make a bad criminal. My days of going 63 miles per hour are behind me.