Tonight, as I was driving home from my girlfriend’s family Christmas Eve celebration, I stopped at a red light. Shortly thereafter, a cop pulled up behind me. The town police department from which the cruiser hailed is notoriously uptight and stringent about… well frankly about stupid shit because it’s a very safe and pleasant neighborhood and they have nothing better to do than find excuses to get out of their cars.
The light turned green, and about fifty yards later I saw the insane light show which heralded the approach of the po-po. Thinking nothing of it, I pulled over to let them by to run on whatever errand they were in such great need of proceeding in haste to. (Sidebar: How on earth do they expect people to drive with those lights going like it’s the freaking fourth of July on the top of their car? Sometimes I want to drive into a ditch when they pass just to prove the point that those seizure-generators are dangerous to other drivers.) As I pulled over, I realized that they were not passing me, but were in fact pulling me over. Equally fascinated, confused, and pissed off, I proceeded to the next side street, as the area where they pulled me over was not safe - there was practically no shoulder.
As always, I sat waiting patiently for their arrival. I made no move to produce the license or registration I expected them to ask for. If you’re familiar with the rules that are supposed to bind the actions of the police in their little games, you are not required to produce identification unless you are being accused of a crime. After several minutes, the “officer” then got out of his vehicle and approached mine. He first went along the passenger side, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was doing. I knew my passenger side back break light had a crack in the cover, but it wasn’t out, and I had no idea why he was back there. If he legitimately stopped me for a safety concern I’m sure he wouldn’t have been taking his sweet time getting out of his vehicle.
He then came up along my passenger side and around the front, aiming the glaring stream of light from his Mag-Lite all over the interior of my vehicle as he walked. I can’t say whether the amused and crooked grin showed through the squinting I was doing to avoid being blinded from the additional light he felt the situation needed. When he eventually reached the driver-side door, he had to knock on the window which I had not yet opened. It was cold, and I - as a rule - don’t like to make it easy for them. They don’t often have to use their brains, so I like to give them the opportunity when I can.
I cracked the window a few inches, and asked “Can I help you sir?” The young, clean-cut kid peering back at me over the thick, pulled-up collar of his aviator-style leather jacket emblazoned with police insignia responded with the standard issue pick up line taught to all cops before they are even out of their pampers, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” In a sincere effort to be as honest as humanly possible, I replied, “Nope.”
“Where are you headed buddy?”
“First, if you could please not call me ‘buddy,’ we’re going to get on a lot better. And though I don’t think you really need to know - home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Downtown Buffalo.”
“Where you comin’ from? Family?”
“Yep. May I ask what this is about?”
“Well, [a little too long of a pause] you were doin’ about fifteen-twenty over the posted limit there.”
“Uhhm…. No. I wasn’t. I saw you pull up behind me at a red light, and there were people in front of me. And before that, the speed limit was 45, and the car in front of me was very taken with that particular number. Though if you meant I wished I was going 15-20 over, then you’ve caught me red handed.”
“Well, my partner and I find your little sticker pretty funny, buddy. What’s your problem?”
At this point it hit me. The back passenger side of my truck is home to the anarchy “A” symbol. That is where he had spend his time behind my truck, reading the words accompanying it. At this point, I was both overwhelmed with amusement and kicking myself for not having an anti-police sentiment there as well, since I was getting pulled over for it anyway.
“I didn’t have a problem, until you illegally inconvenienced my evening with an abuse of your power. Are you actually standing there telling me you pulled me over for my political viewpoints?”
“I’m just telling you that you obviously don’t get the way the world works buddy. And it offends people like us who risk our lives, even on Christmas Eve, to keep you safe.”
“I don’t even know how to begin to respond to that.”
“You know we’re the reason why you can even have shit like that on your car buddy.”
“Right? That is what this situation has taught me.”
“So you think you’re some kinda badass anarchist, right? ‘Fuck the police!’ and all that, right? Is this even your truck? Is this registered to you?”
“Yessir. What about it?”
“Figure some whiny protester type can’t afford a truck like this. Did mommy and daddy buy it for you?”
“So people with real jobs can’t disagree with you? Some of us have real jobs that actually help people. Are we done?”
“Done? Buddy I’m having fun! Aren’t you?”
“Again, enough with the ‘buddy.’ I’m not your buddy. You knew that when you saw that symbol. Am I being accused of a crime officer?”
“Huh? You ran that red light. We went over that.”
“No. We went over your false accusation that I was speeding. But this one is even better. Am I being accused of a crime officer?”
[Glares at me] “No. Just of not being too bright.”
“Am I free to go officer?”
“You know that the only reason I’m not giving you a ticket is because it’s Christmas, right?”
“Right.”
“The only reason.”
“Merry Christmas officer.”
“The only reason.”
He walked away. I left my window down and chuckled to myself. He got back into his car and peeled out. I swear I didn’t see anyone in the passenger seat as the cruiser drove off, so perhaps he only mentioned his partner to intimidate me? Maybe he was pissed because he was stuck in a Crown Victoria at 11PM on Christmas Eve, when his buddies were all in Dodge Chargers. I guess I should be glad it was Christmas, or he would have slapped me with a hefty fine for having political views.
Merry Christmas to all you anti-statists, and a happy new year (to fight the police in)!
Oh come now Dustin, you know this was “an isolated incident”, and most cops are good. I mean, he told you that!
