Entry 92: A Few Disparate Topics

So the other day I'm driving home from work on US-29 in Takoma Park, Maryland. At the section of the highway I'm on there are three lanes in each direction and no shoulder. I mean no shoulder. It goes lane, six inches of yellow stripe, median moving to the left, and lane, six inches of yellow stripe, curb moving to the right. The speed limit is 45, so most the time it drives like a major freeway, but there are stop lights on it.

I'm nearly home, about a mile away, and approaching one of these stop lights. It turns yellow, so I have to make that punch-it-or-slam-on-brakes decision. I punch it, and get through the intersection fine, except for the fact that an unmarked SUV behind me lights up and starts blaring a siren. I'm getting pulled over. To quote Rick Perry, "oops".



The problem is that there is nowhere to pull over. It doesn't seem safe to stop on the highway immediately next to a lane of fast-moving traffic while completely blocking another one. I remember when I took drivers ed, 19 years ago, a state trooper came to talk to us once, and he said that as long as you slow down to indicate you aren't trying to flee, you can always find a safe place to pull over. Well, it turns out that that's not really a universally shared feeling among police officers.

I slow way down, wave my hand a few times to indicate I'm not running away (admittedly this is hard to see as it's dark out), and look for a decent place to stop.



One Mississippi... two Mississippi... three Mississippi... that's all it takes, and the SUV is next to me with the cop in the passenger's seat screaming.

"STOP YOUR FUCKING CAR RIGHT NOW!"

I stop. The officers stop their car and the following exchange occurs.

Cop 1: (approaching the vehicle) ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED? ARE YOU A FUCKING RETARD? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU STOP WHEN WE FLASHED YOU?

Me: (rolling down my window) I was going to. I slowed way down. I was just looking for a safe place to pull over.

Cop 1: WHEN YOU SEE AN OFFICER'S LIGHTS YOU FUCKING STOP! I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU ARE!

Me: I was told that if you don't feel it's safe to pull over, that you can find a safe place. I was just looking for a side street. I didn't think it was safe to block a lane and be so close to the other traffic, especially in the dark.

Cop 1: THAT'S NOT YOUR DECISION! LICENSE AND REGISTRATION! (I give him my credentials. He leaves. His buddy comes up to the other side of my car.)

Cop 2: ROLL DOWN THIS GODDAMN WINDOW! WHEN A COP TELLS YOU TO STOP, YOU FUCKING STOP! YOU DON'T DECIDE WHERE TO STOP! WE DECIDED THAT!

Me: OK, fine, sorry, I was just looking for somewhere safe, I didn't think I was doing anything wrong.

Cop 2: YOU WERE WRONG WHEN YOU DIDN'T STOP WHEN YOU FIRST SAW OUR LIGHTS!

Me: OK, fine, you don't have to yell. I'm right here.

Cop 2: (taking his voice down a few decibels) I'm not yelling. I'm giving you suggestions. (He says this as if yelling and suggestion giving are natural opposites. He leaves and then Cop 1 comes back to the driver's side.)

Cop 1: Do you still live in DC?

Me: No, I just moved to this area a few weeks ago.

Cop 1: Do you have a Maryland license? (He's no longer yelling. He's gone into smug, tough guy, trying-to-intimidate mode.)

Me: No.

Cop 1: You are sure?

Me: Yes.

Cop 1: Why do you think I'm asking you this?

Me: I have no idea.

Cop 1: I'm asking you this because I know you have a Maryland license. Do you know it's illegal to have a license in two different states?

Me: I don't have a Maryland license. I used to have a Maryland license. I lost a Maryland license about four years ago, maybe this has something to do with that.

Cop 1: Ever think to take care of that? (It's difficult to convey just how smug he's being at this point.)

Me: Yes, I did take care of it, when it happened. I went to the Maryland DMV, reported a lost card, and got a new one. When I moved to DC, the DC DMV made me give them this card before I could get my DC license. If it's saying I have two licenses, it's some sort of mistake on the DMV's part.

Cop 1: Well, it's on you isn't it? You're the one who's going to get in trouble for it.

Me: I'm going to get in trouble for a processing error I didn't know anything about and had no reason to assume occurred? That doesn't make any sense. I mean, what was I supposed to do?

Cop 1: Take some responsibility. Step up and take some personal responsibility.

Me: Take some responsibility?! For what?! I didn't do anything! (I'm indignant and raising my voice at this point. I look at the officer. We stare at each other for a few seconds.)

Me: I don't know what you want from me.

Cop 1: You can start by being honest, being truthful.

Me: I've been honest this whole time! What do you think I'm lying to you about? Look, I'm not a criminal. Maybe I've committed a minor moving violation, but... (He cuts me off.)

Cop 1: Don't start with that or you're really going to piss me off. (He walks away, talks with his buddy and comes back.)

Cop 1: I understand your theory about wanting to pull over where it's safe, but it's the wrong theory. When you see our lights, you stop... And slow down! (He goes back to the vehicle and they drive off.)

And that was that. No ticket, no warning, not even an explanation about why I was pulled over, other than the last sentence. (I guess I was driving too fast.) It was weird. So weird that for the rest of the trip home, I created hypothetical scenarios that would explain the officers' overly aggressive behavior. Maybe I matched the description of somebody they were looking for. Maybe they thought they turned their lights on miles ago. Maybe they were having exceptionally stressful days. Maybe, but probably not. Probably they are hotheaded, thin-skinned assholes, and they took it as a personal insult -- an affront to their authority -- that I didn't pull over immediately. When it started to click that I really didn't do anything that wrong, they had to carry on with the whole Maryland license BS as some sort of idiotic self-justification of their brutishness. That's my guess, anyway.



I told S about it when I got home, and she was beside herself. She said suggested I lodge a formal complaint (as did my friend RT), but I never thought to get the officers' names or plates. I don't even know what department they are from. Plus, ultimately nothing happened, and sometimes it's best to just let things go.

*********************************************************************************

In other, much more pleasant news, S and I are buying a house in DC. It's a nice house in a nice neighborhood. I don't want to say too much about it, lest I jinx things (I don't believe in jinxes, but just in case), but if all goes according to plan we will be homeowners and moving back to DC in January. We will also be broke, but what good is it to just see a bunch of numbers on a statement? I'd rather have a house.

I can't say how much we're paying for it, because S specifically asked me to not say it on my blog. She's already annoyed that I stated my salary in a previous entry. She's weird about things like that. Or maybe I'm the weird one. I guess it's impolite to talk about personal finances, but I don't really care. We all work to make money, some make a little more than others, some a little less, what's the big deal? I remember once when S and I were dating I asked how much she made, and she wouldn't tell me. She said, "it doesn't matter," which is an odd response in that it implies the exact opposite. If the answer to a question truly doesn't matter, you just say it, you don't say, "it doesn't matter." It would be really weird if you did.

"What kind of sandwich is that?"
"It doesn't matter."

"Are those new shoes?"
"It doesn't matter."

See, what I mean?

*********************************************************************************

I've been watching the new season of Beavis and Butt-Head. I forgot how funny that show is. It's basically the same as it was 20 years ago, except that during the cut away video parts Beavis and Butt-Head are much wittier than they used to be. During these parts, it's more like an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 than it is an old B and B episode. Watch the clip below to see what I mean.



**********************************************************************************

This whole Tim Tebow thing is really something else, huh? I'm still somewhere in between the "he sucks" and "he's the second coming" camps, but after watching his final drive on Thursday, I'm starting to lean toward the latter. Whatever the case may be, it's just cool to watch him make plays like below, and then practically start speaking in tongues on the sidelines afterward. (Seriously, watch the end. He's muttering to himself.)



Well, that'll do 'er. Until next week...