I'm riding in a car with the gas pedal to the floor. No time to stop and smell the roses or look for pedestrians. I have to get to the bank before it closes. Just as I get to the intersection, the light turns yellow, so I speed up. Red light. I speed up even more. Out of no where I see flashing lights behind me. I pull into the bank parking lot. The cop car pulls in behind me. The bank closes at 5:00pm and its 4:45pm. I'm not going to make it. Its Friday which means I will be broke until Monday. My weekend can't get any worse. I reach for my wallet to get out my driver’s license. I can't find it. Then I remember i left it in my I.D. clip from work. I usually keep my I.D. Clip hanging from the center console rear view mirror. I got it. Now, for the registration, I open up my glove compartment and pull that out. By the time I get everything together, minus my life, the cop is at my driver side window. I roll down my window and wait for him to ask me questions that he already knows the answers to.
"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he says as he pulls out his note pad, which I assumed was his ticket book.
"Um, no sir, I do not." My dad told me to never admit to speeding even when you are guilty. Make them prove that's the reason for them pulling you over. I hand him my license and registration. He never asked for it, but I gave it to him anyway.
"Well, ma'am, you were speeding through that intersection. What's your rush?" He leans over, with my drivers license and registration still in hand, while flipping his shades over his forehead as if to listen intently to what I am about to say. I'm already late, might as well have a chat.
"Well, Officer,...Its Friday and I am just getting off work. The bank closes at 5 and I was trying to make it before it closed. But I guess with all of my efforts, it really doesn't matter now because being pulled over made me late. My gas tank is on Empty and I have no money to get me through the weekend."
"Sucks for you." He says as he stands up right. Flips his shades back on, and commences to write me a ticket. "Well, I'm going to give you a warning on the speeding, but the broken tail light I have to give you a citation for."
"Broken tail light?"
"Yes, ma'am...your rear left light is out. You may want to get that fixed." I stepped out of the car and walked to the rear of my vehicle. The tale light was indeed broken, bashed out to be exact. I also had a dented bumper and scratches along the sides of my car as if it had been keyed.
“What the hell happened to my car!” I yell as I walk around my entire vehicle.
“ Oh man, Looks like someone took a bat to it. You didn’t notice the damage when you got in your car?”
“No, didn’t do an inspection because I was late and needed to get to the bank. This is unreal!”
“Well, do you want to file a report?”
“No.” The last thing I need is police and insurance people all in my business.
“ Are you sure? I mean at the very least you can get your insurance company to pay for repairs if it’s been vandalized. Do you have anything missing from your car?”
I remember my revolver I kept in my mid console. I wondered if it was still there. “No, nothing is missing that is important. I would have known.”
“Are you sure about not filing a report?”
“I’m sure officer.”
“Very well then, you have a safe night and slow down in these intersections.” He gets back in his car and speeds off. As for me, I get in my car frantically searching for my revolver, its missing. There is only one person who hates me enough to key my car and bust up my bumper and tail lights- my estranged husband Boyd. Now, he has my gun.
