Those Flashing Red Lights

The law has caught up with me. My jig is up. I have a record now.

All these years, I’ve worked to keep my public reputation looking good.

Appearances are deceiving.

One day, you live high on the hog. Then with one misstep, you find you’re that much closer to facing a grand jury.

Of course, I’ll take the fifth, and hope my attorney can get me off. Or at least reduce the charges.

But in case I am hauled off to the hoosgow, I hope someone will carry on the blog in my absence. My password is the same as the bank’s safe combo.

Humpty Dumpty’s egg shell world came crashing down when I swerved to miss the truck.

The truck was backing out of a driveway, crossing one lane of traffic and reversing toward my lane.

It was dark (us evil dooers like the cover of darkness, you know). And since I didn’t want the truck to damage my car (with all the goods inside), I swerved a little to the right to avoid him hitting me. I didn’t know his intentions, see?

It turned out that he was stopping in the center lane, and I would have been fine. So I moved back into my lane as I continued on.

It turned out I had a cop tailing me.

The lights turned on in my rear view mirror. I thought they’d just want to pass me, off to catch some real punk who was shoplifting spray paint down at the Wal-Mart. But as I signaled, moved to the right lane, and slowed down, the lights followed me to the right lane, and stopped behind me.

The jig was up. The long arm of the law had my number.

I rolled down my window, and put my hands at 11:00 o’clock and 1:00 o’clock. I sweat bullets as I waited for my fate.

The police lady appeared, shining her flashlight in to blind me as the interrogation began.

“Did you know you have a tail-light out?”

“Uh, no. No, I didn’t!”

“Yeah, your driver’s side tail light is out.”

“Oh, ok” I said, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

She shined her light around the car, looking for some other offense. But I had the goods safely hidden, and she didn’t spot them.

She asked for my license, and I handed it over. She ran my number, and my plates, and found that my alias was clean.

And I was on my way with a warning.

Two different times later, I checked out that taillight. It works just fine.

The cops were looking for an excuse to try to get the goods on me.

But for now, I’ve outsmarted ’em.

Justice will have to wait until another day.

Like the day they read this blog.

And then the gig is up again.

4 thoughts on “Those Flashing Red Lights”

  1. At least the officer didn’t jump out from behind any bushes and onto their motorcycle to chase you down when they spotted your offending tail light . . .


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