Well, I was driving to work yesterday, when those ever-friendly blinking lights showed up behind me. I let loose with the curses, checked to make sure I wasn't speeding (I wasn't) and that I was buckled in (I was) and my cellphone wasn't pressed against my ear (it was in my purse). Finding nothing wrong with myself, I began the whole, "Fucking cop, it's because I'm brown ain't it? Or because I drive a shiny yellow car? You fucking suck, cop!" I pull over, and he saunters toward m'car.
"Hello there, can I see your license please?"
"Your license plates are expired."
"...oh. Oh! I'm sorry!"
"Make sure you get that taken care of."
Boy did I feel like an asshole. In my defense however, I have a history of being stopped by shitty cops. On Sept. 11th, I was stopped by a cop, who had his lights on THE ENTIRE TIME, and then got yelled at for not moving when he parked behind me. See, I stopped by the curb to pick up a friend from the Metro, which this cop took to me parking in a no-parking-zone. However, my brakes weren't on, my engine was still running, and my friend was COMING DOWN THE STAIRS. He even watched as this gaddamn cop wrote me a ticket, and had enough time to take pictures.It's not that I hate cops. It's that I have horrible luck and tend to run into the meanest asshole cops in existence. You'd think the fact that I have TWO cops in my family (both of them brothers-in-law) and my sister works for the DC police would give me good cop karma. But no, all they see is a bright yellow car being driven by a little brown girl and it's "lets yell at this chick and give her a hefty fine" day. All except yesterday's cop, whom I would have gladly hugged in exchange for not giving me the ticket I probably deserved for not having done my emissions testing on time. Twenty days late, in fact.
Virginia is really really REALLY strict on these things, so I'm off to Midas to get Sunstreaker checked out. No worries, I already ate my breakfast.
Quick tip: Adding tabasco sauce to your scrambled eggs is AWESOME.