The easy answer? When I stop you.
Would that a post like this was unnecessary. Alas, that seems to not be the case.
What follows is by no means what actually occurs in the really real world when I stop someone and they ask the ignominious question, “Am I getting a ticket?” as I hand them my cite book with both our names, a violation, and a freaking court date scrawled upon it.
What follows are all of the things that run through my head at virtually the same blessed time resulting in an odd twitch above my left eye and my deep desire to suddenly suffer Tourettes Syndrome.
The scenario is the same, the violator interchangeable. They have been stopped because a) they deserved it and b) they did something that ought not have done. The violation has been explained. Sometimes at length. Sometimes the aforementioned violation causes my wonderful life to flash before my eyes and words of a profane nature to slip from betwixt my lips.
These are not important, though. What is important is the violator and I have spent a good two minutes together and the outcome should be obvious as I’ve stood behind their vehicle scratching madly upon my cite book and then have walked back to the vehicle and handed them that very same book.
Without further ado…
Violator: “Am I getting a ticket?”
MC’s variety of responses:
“No, no. This is a raffle ticket. I like you so much, I’m going to enter you four times!”
“A ticket? Heavens, no. It’s a customer satisfaction survey. We here at the Town PD value your opinion so much that we belittle ourselves to make you feel better about yourself.”
“No, we have a competition with Town Fire. If we can collect more signatures than they can in a day, they’ll make us a BBQ dinner. Those bitches can cook!”
“I would never! This is merely a reminder that you were driving safely. It’s all those other assholes that were going too slow. This is an Appropriate Speed Survey. There is a hat that goes along with it, too!” See what I did there?
“Just what the fuck do you think I’ve been doing back there for the past few minutes? Jotting down how much I admire your over-priced, my-car-is-my-status, I’m-In-Debt-To-My-Eyeballs Jaguar? Because I was. I totally was. This car is boss.”
“Just circle ‘Yes’ if you like me.” I run away giggling.
“Um. Yeah. It’s a freakin’ ticket. We’re you not paying attention when I explained the whole ‘You Nearly Killed Me With Your Dumbass Maneuver’ spiel?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but if we give away a certain number of these things, an angel gets its wings.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but if we give away a certain number of these things, a demon horde is released upon the land.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but if we give away a certain number of these things, not a damn thing will change because you’ll still suck at driving. I’m just glad I’m better at driving than you and don’t have my head up my ass. Mostly because this helmet is f’n huge and it would hurt a lot more.”
“Are you so completely and utterly daft and self-absorbed that you have no concept of how the interaction with a motor officer works?”
“WOLVERINES!!!!” I happen to be in a pre-dug hole next to their car and pop out firing off hundreds of rounds from my AK.
Some day, much closer to retirement I assure you, I will utter some of these things to both see the look on their faces and, more importantly, give myself a chuckle.
On next week’s episode:
MC: Sign the highlighted yellow portion where it says “Signature”.
Violator: Where do you want me to sign?
Left eye twitches…