Friday, December 07, 2001


College Park is a neighborhood near my house. It must also be home to some community officials because cops have set up speed traps all over the place. Luckily, the cops are cool. I've been pulled over a few times for doing 34 mph in a 30 mph zone. I'm nice, the cops are nice. My papers are in order and they let me go with a warning. They seem to be targeting speeding high schoolers and I'm not going to argue. I just drive slower and pay attention. My days of being pissed off at polite cops doing their jobs are long over.

Anyway, this afternoon, there was a wreck on I-4 as Jake and I drove home from school. The back-up went for a few miles and traffic was crawling along. Suddenly, an ambulance appeared in the rear view mirror. Drivers pulled off left and right, trying to clear a path -- all except one old fucker in a Caddie who sat right in the middle lane, oblivious to everything.

Becuase of the old guy in the caddie, the ambulance swung behind me and passed on the right in the service lane. Close behind was a white convertible slip streaming through traffic on the siren of the ambulance. I know, I shouldn't have cared, but I got pissed. Maybe I was pissed because the convertible was bypassing traffic and I wasn't. Maybe I was pissed because he was driving recklessly and I had Jake in the car (having kids does that too you - every transgression becomes a perceived attack on your child). Ultimately, I was determined not to break traffic laws myself because those cops have been nice to me lately. So he drove on through traffic and I muttered a curse, which Jake repeated again and again. No I tried to tell him. I was saying Shoot! Jake didn't buy it.

Three minutes later, we crested a hill and - Oh Happy Day! - the bastard in the convertible had been pulled over by a state tropper who hopefully wrote out a big, big ticket. I snapped the above picture as I drove past and shouted HA! out my open window.

Jake repeated HA! again and again all the way home.

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