So several weeks ago, I got pulled over less than a block from work. I had just done my little OCD closing ritual of pausing on my way out of the parking lot just long enough to double check that everything I can see is good to go for the next day (safe doors shut, fans off, no big messes on the counters, etc.). I know, I’m a dork. Anyway, I did my little quick double check, then headed home. When the lights started flashing behind me, I immediately thought, “Crap, they probably totally think I was casing the joint or something!” This was followed by, “Oh crap! The only time I forget my wallet at home, I get pulled over! OMG I don’t have my ID with me. This is so Virginia’s fault! She just had to jinx me! Crap. I’m toast.” (And it totally was her fault too–she stopped by my work and I mentioned that I forgot my wallet and she had to go and make a comment about driving without my ID and how I better hope I don’t get pulled over. Totally jinxed me.) So anyway, the cop comes up to my window and I look up at him all worried and ask what I did wrong. And this is how or exchange goes from there:
“Well, hopefully you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Well then why did you pull me over?”
“You have a license plate light out.”
A license plate has its own light?!?
“Oh. I’ll let my uncle know.”
“Just need to see license, registration and proof of insurance.”
“Yeah…okay…um…funny thing about that. Here’s the paper stuff from the glove box…not sure what’s what there…but…well…I actually don’t have my ID. I always have my wallet on me when I go to work, but I totally forgot it today somehow. So my ID is at home.”
“Okay, just go ahead and give me your name and social security number then.”
I did so, careful to spell my name out for him and everything.
He calls it in on his little shoulder radio thingy and hands me back all the paper crap. While I’m stuffing it back into the glove box, I hear a crackly voice on the radio thingy say “Subject not found.” The cop glances at me and repeats everything, making sure the radio listener knows its my name and my social, not my ID number. And this is when things went abominably awkward.
“I swear I’m really me. I mean, that’s totally my name. It’s not an alias or somebody else’s name I’m using or anything.”
“Yeah, we’ll just give her another minute here…”
The crackly voice comes back through the radio, insisting that I cannot be found. He asks me something or other, then updates her and resumes his ‘cop waiting’ pose next to the car.
“I promise that’s my real name. I am totally not exciting enough to need an alias. I mean, I am totally boring really. I don’t carry drugs or knives or guns or bombs or anything like that.”
“Well that’s good to know.”
“I mean, I don’t even know how to shoot a gun, so why on earth would I carry one around with me? I do want to learn though. Where can a person learn to shoot a gun anyway?”
After a second of stunned silence, the cop says he thinks there is a guy in the nearby town that gives lessons. Now, in my defense, the entire time my mouth is spewing this deluge of dimwittedness, my brain is trying desperately to make it stop. Unfortunately, my mouth ignored my brain entirely.
“And I totally don’t do drugs, though I could probably point out dozens of potheads and tweakers around town. I mean seriously, I’ve learned more about manufacturing meth since I moved here than I ever thought I’d know.”
“Yeah. Not that I would ever make meth. Meth is super bad. Rots your teeth. Makes you all weird and twitchy. Makes sores bust out all over your face. Just nasty.”
“It is pretty awful stuff.”
“Of course, I’m pretty boring, I mean, I don’t even drink more than once or twice a year, so no way would I ever get into drugs. If you guys ever want to catch meth heads, you should just watch our store and arrest them when they come out with their ice packs and batteries and such. They’re not exactly sneaky about it.”
He gives me his card at this point, telling me to feel free to contact him if I have info on anyone in particular.
“So do you get to tase folks very often? I was totally hoping the officers would tase the little creep boys they arrested down the street from me one night, but it just didn’t happen. It was kind of a bummer. I mean, not that I wanted them to make the officers’ job any more difficult, but I just really want to see someone get tased. It’s so awesome when they get tased on Cops. It’s probably a good thing I’m not a cop and I don’t have a taser. I’d be all tasing folks for everything, just cause it’s amusing.”
Finally, my mouth stops its evil rambling. The cop finally receives confirmation that I really exist, then makes a rather hasty exit after telling me to make sure I get the light fixed. The poor man probably thought I was a loon. Siiigh.
I have a friend that lives in Texas, and I am fairly convinced she and her hubby are bonkers for moving there. I mean, it’s hot there, so there’s that–a big strike against Texas right there. Then, today, I see a pic on FB of the FRICKIN’ TARANTULA that showed up next to their pool! She slapped a basket thing over it and walked away from it. ?!?!?! She didn’t burn the house down or have a heart attack or anything! Me? My ass would been gone Amityville style y’all–leave everything behind and hit the road.
I realized something tonight–I have an awful lot of plans this summer, especially considering I’m very much selectively social and all. If I successfully maneuver things and get the time off work, then I have a grad party, a bday party, a court thingy, a week-long trip to go visit the fam, and, possibly, a class reunion to attend. I probably won’t end up being able to go to all of the events, since it’s summer and other people will want days off work too, but I’ll probably make it to most of them. Makes me exhausted just thinking about all that social interaction. Except the week with the fam of course.
Randomosity: I totally have a fuzzy, hot-pink little TY hedge hog! We got them in at work and I just had to have one. I think I might name her Petunia…maybe. I can’t wait to go to some garage sales Saturday! It is totally going to suck to go with out any allergy meds Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday morning/afternoon. Darn allergy testing. I hope my pal Krystal is feeling better. Pickle juice popsicles–what kind of a nut-job came up with that one? I cannot wait to spend a week with Chloe and Carrie and Steve and Elise and Alex (okay, so I only get to see Elise and Alex on the weekend while I’m there, but I am ecstatic they could find any time at all, considering how busy they are!) I can’t wait for Chloe to tell me all about their trip to Disney and all that–they’re going for a little over 1 week (I think) and they’re heading out this weekend. I hope they have an awesome time! I could really go for a taco. That color commercial is getting on my nerves. I bet it would be awesome to have a service monkey…like a little spider monkey. You could take it with you everywhere and dress it in little monkey clothes and it would be totally adorable. I think I may have mentioned this before, but I really need new shoes. I’m getting rather tired of my allergies and asthma acting all irksome and such, feeling miserable one day, okay the next. It’s so freaking annoying–bring it on or back off darn it. Preferably back off.
Word to your mama, llama!