Now that I think about it, last night could have been worse. Much worse. And I’ll explain why later, but as for now, let’s get into why EVERY situation with a police officer must end with me hating them more and more.
I was over the middle broke white line of the eastbound side of I-94. Which happens many times and is careless. What is more careless is how the police officer, instead of turning his lights on whilst behind me, you know, like a normal cop, he decides to get in the left lane and turn his lights on–as if he was almost hoping I would swerve into him and then he’d have a reason to legitimately shoot me. Right? In any case, after 10 seconds or so, he gets behind me and then proceeds. I hadn’t eaten a boulder of crystal meth behind me, so I wasn’t really ready for a white guy to rape me with his consent. But I guess you have no other choice. That’s why it’s rape and just not regular old froth-filled gay fucking.
He walks over. He asks me all the stupid questions. “You know what the middle white line is for, right?” “Why are you even driving like this?” “Oh, so you’re clearing your windshield off while you’re driving? That’s smart, you should have done that beforehand” (never mind Michigan’s perpetual fog and the fact that my defogger is made for ants) “Where’s your phone? What were you doing with it?” At this point he slyly requests to see it, not outright, but upon locating it he said nothing afterward. And even if he did, I am aware of my 4th amendment rights. Or at least what’s left of it.
I’d try answering any questions in a stammering manner, but you know there’s no point. Cops are the authority, they simply go through this in order to remind themselves that. Such a shame to need that much stimulation to get an erection.
I give the polcie officer my license and what registration I had on hand. It was not the current one–hey, I was scared. I have no time to make sure things are correct because if I take too long he will continue to try to provoke me,
Then again, maybe I should have taken that time.
“Is this car yours?”
“Yes, of course It’s mine.”
“Well when someone is driving that erratically and is trying to talk over me, i get curious.”
“Sir, I’m sorry about–“
“When I see an Illinois form of identifcation, Missouri registration, Kansas license plates, and you’re in Michigan, I have to wonder if you’re a criminal.”
‘Sir, it is completely false for you to assume–“
“I didn’t assume anything. I’m just curious.” At this point my mind’s dopaminergic neurons completely fail at trying to understand this guy. They basically start sucking up neurotransmitters instead of releasing them, causing a complete implosion.
“I AM NOT A CRIMINAL, I AM AN EDUCATED COLLEGE GRADUATE WITH A CIVIL ENGINEERING DEGREE.”
That felt good. I don’t like pulling the “black” card. So I said “educated”. Close enough.
“Well if you’re educated, then you can get Michigan plates after being here within 90 days of moving and a license within 60, and you can get me a proper registration when I return.”
Well, sure, officer, I can get you a proper registration except it was on my coffee table. Because when calling my insurance company yesterday, I couldn’t just keep the fucking registration in the car. Don’t ask–it’s been a very rough week, what, with working 44 hours in 4 days–so brainfarts and just plain massive ADD happen.
At this point, I would like to speed things along, but I can’t. See, if I get out of my car for any reason, I’m resisting arrest before I even get arrested. If I touch my phone again, this time he’s going to demand it and any acknowledgments of my rights is going to lead to someone having to read my last rights. Use your head? Bullet to the head. That’s how it goes in this country now.
A half-hour later, I get my ticket for careless/reckless driving or whatever, and that was the end of it. Thankfully. It could have been worse though had he seen that yellow pill under my armrest upon searching my car. I have a prescription for said medication, but who knows, maybe I look like the kingpin of Operation Pill Crusher.
That’s the name of your drug ring? Really? Somewhere Heisenberg is laughing is ass off at you.
I have more to complain about, given that my mom’s 60th birthday would have been yesterday and tomorrow marks the 3rd anniversary of her death….oh wait, yeah I do have more to complain about, something that could not have come at a worse time than this.