Put your hands where I can see them—hanging on the wrong side of the law

Around 1 AM this morning Craig and I got the last load of stuff from our old apartment. Included in the last load, of course, were the odds and ends that refused to be packed—our welcome mat, the odd picture, canvas grocery bags, and kitties. Our cats do not like stuff slowly disappearing from their home, but even more than that they loathe riding in the car. Within seconds of starting the engine I was listening to a chorus of meows and whimpers while surrounded by weird crap from our apartment. In all this commotion, I forgot to turn on my headlights while I was in the brightly lit parking garage; fortunately, Craig had my back and said something to me as I pulled out onto the street. I turned them on, cruised up to a red light, and turned right onto an empty San Felipe.

Seconds later there’s a cop car behind me with his lights on. What could I possibly have done wrong already? Did I seem drunk? Is it illegal to drive with two cats? Did I have a tail light out? My mind flashed to a time my mom got a ticket for driving without her lights on, which was silly--she’d turned out of a parking lot and 10 yards later was pulled over on a road so bright that headlights wouldn’t have made a difference. But I was only without my lights through a private driveway--isn’t that okay?

I pulled over (and in true kitty fashion, the cats meowed even louder at having stopped) and started freaking out. Before this I’d been pulled over 3 times: once for no reason by some meanie who made me start crying after he left, once for running a red light by a nice guy who let me go because I seemed really scared and he thought that was funny, and once for speeding by some dude just doing his job... I guess. I’m 1 for 3 with nice cops. The thing is, I don’t need a cop to be nice and let me off the hook for breaking the law; when I run red lights, I should be ticketed. When I speed, I guess I should be ticketed as well (I’m not a huge fan of speed limits, especially since I don’t drive very fast-- my truck is incapable of it). All I want from a cop-MisheleK interaction is some bleeping respect. I am not used to being treated like trash in my everyday life; for the most part folks are nice to me at the gas station and the bank, at work and at the gym. I’m a human. Others are humans. It all works out nicely. That is what I want from a police officer--basic human dignity. I realize I can’t have it because life is what it is, but a girl can dream.

So I pulled over and dude comes over to my open window. “What’d I do wrong?” I asked.
“Well, if you want to be really nit-picky, you didn’t come to a complete stop at that red light. You should have stopped all the way instead of just rolling through.”
I was slightly annoyed since I was as close to being stopped as you can be without completely stopping--and the road was a ghost town. Still, I brightened since the odds of a cop ticketing for something he refers to as “nit-picky” were in my favor.

There were howling cats in the background. “You moving?” he asks, flashing his torch through my cab.
“Yup.”
“Well, I pulled you over because you pulled out of the garage without your lights on--” (frick!) “--and there have been a series of car thefts in the area. Would you mind showing me your license and proof of insurance?”
Would I mind? Would I mind? Heck no I don’t mind! Thanks for asking! Whew! My shaky hands flew to get the documents. As I handed them over I asked him if I looked suspicious. He shrugged.

After checking my stuff he let me go and I called back to him that I’d be sure to stop at that corner from now on (especially since I’m never going back to it). I drove on to catch up with Craig, who’d waited for me, and thought of how crazy it was he asked if I would mind giving him proof I wasn’t stealing my own car.

Now I'm batting .500... and I’ll take it.