(He reminded me of this character who had an attitude so powerful that the medical community named a syndrome after him.)
It was November 9—my birthday– to be exact (that’s important to the story,) and hubby and I headed to the airport to check airplane seat assignment for our upcoming Hawaii trip (not allowed to do it on website?) I couldn’t stand the thought of being jammed between 2 others on a 6-8 hour flight. You see, I’m seriously claustrophobic.
I was driving (also important to story.)
When the airport traffic light turned red, I stopped. When the car coming from the other direction stopped, too, I assumed he was letting me go (in Rhode Island, a driver can turn right on red, if no other car is coming or if the other allows.) I proceeded to turn.
Next, I heard the whoooo….whup…whup…siren of a police car. The car that I thought stopped to let me go apparently hadn’t…Furthermore, that car belonged to a cop, one who apparently rides around airport grounds all day, in an unmarked car, ready to pounce on folks like me.
Intersection protocol must have confused, him, too, for he hadn’t activated his siren right away. He pulled up alongside, directed his window down, and leveled a cold, hard state at me, saying: “Ma’am…Do you realize what you did back there?”
I just nodded in the negative and mumbled “No.”
He exhaled, pained, as if I were the worst felon he’d encountered all day (I’m a 67-year-old, former teacher who just took a right turn on a red light, but who had the inordinate bad luck of meeting up with a cop coming from the other direction.)
He asked more pointedly: “Do you know you just went through a red light?”
He followed that up with: “I could have gone right into you.”
My answer: “I’m sorry…I thought you were letting me go” (but I apparently didn’t say it with enough vigor.)
He glowered, at this point, and repeated: “Do you realize what you’ve done?” (I just stared at him, thinking “What the H** does he want?”)
Next, he added: “Now, I don’t want to write you an $85.00 ticket but I could. Do you know that?” while I’m thinking: “This fool’s now threatening me with his power.”
At this point, I get the drift: He’ll issue the ticket if I don’t grovel…while inside, I hate this man and I want to say: “Listen, fella, I seriously think you suffer from a Napoleonic Complex (a.k.a. Short Man Syndrome…you know, that need little guys have to push their weight around cuz they’re lacking in other departments.)
I want to say: “Just give me the damned ticket.” “It’s my birthday and I’m not gonna put up with his crap.” But I don’t….
After a painful almost-minute of the two of us staring at each other (with my husband quietly coaxing me, from the passenger seat, “Just say ‘Yes’ (to the fact I understand the heinous act I just committed,) I gave the man what he wanted…that magic words (with serious emphasis, this time) that’d release me from this surreal state that had Proust’s “L’Etranger” written all over it.
Finally, I said it: “Oh, I’m so sorry.” “I didn’t realize” while I filled the rest in, in my head: ‘Didn’t realize’ you don’t have any real criminals here, so you’ve got to negotiate me into this nuts position of admitting how I committed the worst possible driving offense at this airport intersection (which, by the way, is crazily configured, anyway!)
‘Didn’t realize’ I was interrupting your faux policeman’s day (he wore no uniform and didn’t have recognizable police car…for that matter, he could have been an imposter with a quick-mount siren…)
‘Didn’t realize’ (til now) that you’re so damned lazy you’re looking for any way to not write this ticket, thus releasing us both from this Hellish stand-off.
That’s why we had to do this back-and-forth dance for several minutes.
Yeah, I know: I’m not being kind here, but as I said: I thought he (as other driver) was just being gracious………. and after all, it was my birthday.
Lesson here? “Never Sass a Cop!” (Even with your eyes.)
More frequently than I’d like to admit, I’m so glad that people can’t read our minds! Also, that we don’t have those big balloons over our heads with all our thoughts on view! Glad your inner censor was working that day, & so was your husband, I’ll bet.
You have no idea how funny this is to me!!! I have quite a few stories like this to tell you one day…. but for now, let’s just say that small town police officers (in my case, a “no red light” small town in Arkansas) do not like to be told “Nice speed trap you have here in this Hick Town”……….not sure why, but they don’t.
David…I’m just waiting for my husband Paul to jump in here and add the story about his being jailed one night because he couldn’t remember to hold his tongue in conversation with a cop. The irony? He’d go into Corrections later in life, as an officer. Then, the gumshoe was literally on the other foot…But I’ll let him tell his story. Thanks for commenting…
Oh… I’d love to hear about that!! Tell him we’re waiting