Dad, the boys, and I had a wonderful time attending the 101st running of the Indianapolis 500 this weekend. I shall blog about it.
However, I’m a little too tuckered to do it tonight. Instead, I will briefly write about the only real negative of the weekend here, in order to a) isolate it from the overwhelmingly positive recollection to come; and b) get it out there so I may have my hair of plausibility in thinking that he might see it. Are you sitting comfortably? Excellent. Then I’ll begin.
To the police officer directing traffic in Speedway, Indiana, at Lafayette Rd. and W. 30th Street, about 9:50 the morning of May 28, 2017:
Listen, you contemptible prick. I drove through the intersection when you waved me through. Eminently reasonably, I believed that to be the end of our interaction.
Now, unbeknownst to you, but knownst to me, I needed to change lanes from the right to the left to get to my parking lot. Seeing an opportunity to do so after you waved me through, I did so.
Apparently, this was me getting one over on you somehow, because you then beat on the side of my wife’s car and appeared at my window. When I lowered it, you yelled at me to get back in the right lane immediately.
Not wishing to further anger an obviously irrational man with a gun, a club, and the authority to take me into custody and ruin my race weekend, I complied.
From here, I’ll say hey man, what the hell?
I am a big supporter of the law enforcement community. I appreciate the work you do. But I really resent you unloading on me, particularly when my “violation” was apparently against some made-up shit in your head. Straighten up, you jackass. We’re trying to have a society here.
(And hey, if you recognize yourself in this narrative, feel free to email me. I’ll give you your side of the story! Make you an Internet sensation!)