Fuck the Police

Wednesday, November 11, 2009 | 2 Comment(s)

Disclaimer:  There will be swears. Filthy language.  So if you don't like filthy language then you might not find the following funny.  But you probably will.  So stop being a dickbag.

Ok.  I know you are dying, waiting for the continuation of the 5 people you meet in the locker room.  And they're coming.  But sometimes life intervenes and necessitates immediate blogging.  And so, i blog.

Last night, I visited my friend Andrew's house.  Andrew lives in the middle of nowhere.  Even by Western MA standards.  If you check google maps on your iPhone at his house, well, you will find you have no signal, but if you could, the map would read "map not found."  The shit is in the woods.  So, I'm driving home on a 1.5 lane dirt gravel road at 10pm in the darkness.  Not long into my drive, I see a cop car coming towards me with its lights on.  Now, in my mind I'm thinking, if he's got his lights on, this must be important. Remember, we are in Nowheresville.   To have your siren going would be almost ridiculous overkill.  So, being the conscientious driver I am, i pull to the side of the road to allow him to pass more easily.  It's not a very wide road, and I thought this gesture would be appreciated. 

Quite the contrary.  The patrol car pulls along side me and rolls down his window.  "REALLY," i think to myself, do i really have to talk to this guy. WTF.  He leans out and says, "You been drinking tonight."  I feel like im in that commercial where I roll down my window and beer starts pouring out of the car.  Except . . . I have not been drinking tonight.  "No sir," I say (i am pretty sure the annoyance came out in my voice on that one).  "Hold on," he replies as he proceeds to get out of his vehicle.  HE'S GETTING OUT OF HIS VEHICLE. What the hell is going on.  I'm not drunk. I'm NOT speeding.  I do not understand why this is happening.  As he comes to my window he says, "Well, I'm responding to an accident, but i see you on the side of the road idling and i have to wonder if you've been drinking."    

Breath Breath.

Possible responses (in the order they pop into my head):

"What is wrong with you you fucking dickbag."
"If there is an accident up the road what the FUCK are you doing harassing me for no reason. What if they are bleeding out while you are talking to me.  You fucking dickbag."
"So what you are telling me is that you are pulling me over because I was a sensitive enough driver to pull over to let you by more easily.  Are you fucking crazy.  You fucking dickbag."

What I said: "Well, I saw you coming down the road with your lights going, so I pulled over." (mental "you fucking dickbag")

His response: "Are you sure you haven't been drinking, your eyes are really red."

My first thought:  "Interesting point dickbag.  Considering how red eyes are usually a clear indicator of intoxication.  Much more so then smell or erratic behavior." 

My actual reply (all true): I have chronic dry eyes and blufferitis.  Here are my drops (shows cop drops).

Him, "What's blufferitis"

Me (and im nervous so this doesn't come out super elloquently):  "It's the tear ducts getting clogged.  Well, the ducts that release the oil that keeps your tears from evaporating. . . (i realize he's not following, so i try to clarify quickly) . . . and then I have to clean the mucus out from around the eye."

Somehow the word mucus always seems to do the trick.  Drunk people don't talk mucus I guess.  Or perhaps the police dickbag realized that he could be doing something actually productive (like helping the accident victims down the road).  For whatever reason, after a second good swipe of the flashlight in my eyes, he tells me to drive safe. 

In my mind, "I was fucking driving safe til you pulled me over for pulling over like some idiot monkey-turd and ruined my goddamn drive in the woods."

I should say that just as the nervousness of the encounter was receding and in its place the anger was taking over, a deer ran to the side of the road in front of my car.  I literally had a deer in my headlights.  Sounds more cool in print than in practice.  I drove the rest of my way home firmly in the "nervous" zone. 

I hope the people in the accident were already ok, because im pretty sure there wasn't much help on its way.


  1. I hate the cops around here. 10 years of driving in Miami, no problems. Around here, I've interacted with the cops at least twice a month since July.

  2. The cops around Western Mass SUCK. Talk about authoritarian power trips.
    I once contested a bullshit speeding ticket. I saw the cop immediately. He was pulling out of a business or a driveway as I passed by and he got behind me. He proceeded to tailgate me mercilessly (at night) for about a mile, clearly trying to intimidate me into going faster. When I didn't, he pulled me over and ticketed me anyway.
    At the hearing, he lied his pig face off. He said he was going the other way when he saw me approach (lie) and that he got me on radar (lie) and that I was doing 45 in a 35 zone (lie). The big lie was the radar--I knew he didn't radar me because when he pulled me over he didn't say "i have you on radar going 45." He said "when you passed me back there you were going about 40 to 45"--clearly an estimate, both because of how he said it and the fact that radar doesn't work on vehicles passing in front of you.
    This was like 5 years ago and I'm still pissed about it.
    And so yeah, I think I jsut wrote a blog entry of my own. :-P