The red and blue lights filled my mirrors. The police should really turn them down a notch. They’re obnoxious. My bride looked straight ahead with a smirk on her face.
I was really irked. The policeman pulled me over for no good reason. When he came up to my window, he asked for my papers and ID. I was cool with that, but then he had to be a smart-aleck. “Were you confused?” he asked.
I’ve been driving since Nixon was president. I’ve driven all over the world. I’ve even driven in England where they drive on the wrong side of the road. They’re all “jolly good” and “’ave a spot of tea,” but they can’t drive their way out of Hugh Grant’s sock drawer. I’ve driven on goat trails through the Rockies with one eye closed and a sty on the other eye. I’ve driven trucks in circles around running airplanes and dodged bombs that prematurely launched. I don’t get confused, and I know how to drive.
I was raised to be polite, so I waited until he was back at his car before I responded. “I wasn’t confused. The idiot that programmed Google was confused. Whoever sent me up a closed street was confused” I harped.
My bitter half raised an eyebrow. “You made a left from the right lane. You cut off the cars coming from the other way.” “I didn’t see other cars. I had to turn, the road was blocked. Besides, when you drive you’re supposed to watch out for the other guy, and today I’m the other guy. Why do they keep changing the roads anyway? It’s stupid.” I got angrier as I thought about it.
I continued on. “Confused? Why would he say that? What, does he hate older people? I was probably driving before his daddy was born. How old is he, 12? Is that a police car or a Tonka truck? Isn’t he missing his nap time? That’s what wrong with this country, no respect. No respect at all.”
The wife was having none of it. Leave it to her to side with a muscular young man in uniform. “You were wrong. He’s probably giving you at least two tickets. You know what you were? You were a menace. You were a traffic menace. You should get a ticket.” She smiled a little.
That really set me off. It was a matter of principle now. It was about being a man. My manhood was at risk. I was really going to tell him off. Smart-aleck. “Wait until he gets up here. I’m telling him. You’ll see.” She snorted a bit. “Yeah, you do that. You’ll go to jail.”
I remained resolved to right this wrong. This was for mature men everywhere. I was drawing a line in the sand, and daring any young male to cross it. Confused, I ain’t confused. I tensed up as the officer walked back up to my drivers’ window. He handed my documents back. I wasn’t expecting his question.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
I drew a blank. I glanced over at the wife. She reminded me we were going to eat lunch at the arches. The policeman pointed out the entrance just ahead.
“You folks be careful” he said. I thanked him and pulled away without any citations. We turned into the parking lot.
“You really told him” the spouse taunted. “You just went in the exit and cut that car off.”
Who designed this restaurant anyway? Smartalecks.