At the beginning of this little experiment, my loving Mom mentioned that I would have an experience and think to myself, “That is so bloggable.” As per previous posts, we are well acquainted with how stupid I think the word “blog” is. Today, to my shame, I said out loud and with a certain verve, “Bloggable.” That was it. There was no one else in the car. So. Fucking. Sad.
At any rate, please to enjoy (credit Joel McHale) the following experience…
I worked a little OT tonite, so I was in a fully marked patrol car;however, the motorcop never rests, so I’m always looking to write more cites. I was in the #1 right turn lane waiting to enter the freeway N/B (that’s the left most turn lane for you non-traffic dorks). There was a pickup truck immediately to my right, also getting on the freeway. The lite cycles to green and we both go. The truck swings wide and begins to enter my lane. The lane in which I was currently in. As in already there. As in he would hit me if I wasn’t paying attention. I quickly hit the brakes and the horn, which is connected to the siren, and hit my lites.
The truck pulls over on the on-ramp. The conversation goes something like this…
Me: Evening. Do you know why I stopped you?
Idiot: Yeah. I swung a little wide in my turn.
Me: A little wide? You almost hit me.
Idiot: Sorry about that.
Me: No problem…license, registration, and insurance, please.
***INTERMISSION WHILST THE CITE IS WRITTEN***
I return with his citation….
Me: Ok, sir, I just need your signature on the highlighted yellow portion on the bottom.
Idiot (incredulously): You’re giving me a ticket.
Me (disbelievingly): Uh, yes, sir. You almost hit me.
Idiot (still incredulous): Well, I know, but don’t you think a warning would be more appropriate.
Me: No. (now walking back to my car shaking my head)
At which point Idiot signs the ticket but internally curses the cruel Fates that have brought him to this experience. Now, I ask you, dear random Internet masses, what the fuck is wrong with this guy? How do you nearly hit a moving, fully marked police car and not expect to get a ticket? Are you retarded? How can you possibly think you wouldn’t get a ticket for that?
I then return to my car, get in, close the door and say in a sing-song voice, “Bloggable.” Oh, the depths I have reached. To be fair, or to pass the buck, I have heard the Wife utter the B-word a number of times, so I am claiming some kind of unfair adversity here. But, the fact remains I said it and, again, Mom was right. Shit, twice in one week and I admit it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. (That was just payback, cuz I know she hates it when I swear….Evil Little Monkey that I am.)
Off to sleep and recharge the batteries for more soul crushing on the morrow….