Thursday, September 20, 2007

My Gall Is Unmitigated

I’m going preface this story, as I’ve done eight times already tonight, with a warning: you will not believe it...which is too bad, because every single word of it is true.
One hour after writing my last post, I found myself driving through a residential-area and coming up on a stop-sign; there were cars parked on my left-hand side, which comes into play in a second. Now, just before I reached the intersection an SUV came in from the left, just whipping around the corner, and I swerved to the right, narrowly missing it. As I stopped, I threw my hands into the air and, with every little ounce of irritation that had packed itself onto my skull backing me up, screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
The SUV stopped and, here’s the best part, out walks a cop.
Fine, I think to myself.
Great, I think to myself.
Fuck THAT, I think to myself, and I too get out of the car...and as the cop smugly walks towards me, I ask him, "what was that?"
"There were cars parked in the road," he says.
"There are cars parked on the side of the road," I say, pointing at the cars. "I’ve made that turn a hundred times and never once did I swing out like that. There’s a stop-sign..."
The cop cuts me off: "Now, we can’t have you yelling cuss words, not in a family-neighbourhood like this."
"What?" I say.
"Can I see your license and registration, please."
"You’re kidding," I say, beyond astonished; he just stands and looks at me, which is apparently cop-talk for, "no, I’m not kidding."
"All right," I say, gathering up all the nutsack I can for what I’m about to do: "I’ll give you my information if you give me yours: I want your name, your badge-number, and whatever else I can use to identify you to your superiors."
The silence that followed was kind of like what I imagine it would feel like to watch the top of a building collapse and fall toward you; like being in the eye of a hurricane, except instead of a hurricane, it was an all-encompassing, spend-the-night-in-jail shitstorm. Then, I say:
"I’ll just go get my registration."
With that, the cop walked away.
I was, and still am, paralyzed with disbelief. At the time, though, I did all I could think of to do: I lit a smoke, sat up on the trunk of my car, and watched the cop drive his SUV over the horizon.

I’m moving to Tibet.

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