Driving

I really love driving. I’m a big fan of it. I love blasting music with the windows down and coasting down the open road. While I don’t have a convertible, I still enjoy the experience. Except when the fuzz aka the police is behind me. For some reason and I don’t think I’m the only one here, I always get nervous when they are behind me. I think to myself, “oh no, they must have seen me drop that body off back on 42nd street!” I imagine myself flooring it. Next thing you know I’m in a full speed city-wide chase equivalent to the one in the Blues Brothers. There’s choppers above me. The police are setting up spike strips. Full blown blockades with swat trucks. Everyone is barking into megaphones, “DEAD OR ALIVE!” However, I stop at every light and make sure to use my turn signal in this scenario. A real twist.

But for real, I always get nervous, which then leads to me doing something wrong. The other day I saw the car behind me. An unmarked Ford Crown Victoria. Unmarked meaning it’s supposed to not be obvious that it’s a cop car, but everybody knows. They’re not fooling anyone. It came out of nowhere and was basically bumper to bumper with me. Imagine me lunging across the seat to the glove-box and grabbing a gun. Pulling back the hammer and saying, “We’re going to hell together.” That didn’t happen. Imagine me turning on “We’re not gonna take it” by Twisted Sister. That did happen. The car is right on my bumper at every turn. Then I see the lights. Red and blue flashing every millisecond. The colors decorate the interior of my car. I pull over. Seconds feel like years. Sweat starts to run in beads down my face as I stare into the rear-view mirror waiting for Judge Dredd to get out of the car and tell me, “Negotiations over. The sentence is death.” A few minutes go by. Nothing. Should I get out of the car? No. I’d probably get gunned down. Should I beep the horn? Nope, that’s also a terrible idea. I sit and wait. The squad car turns off their lights and pulls to the side of my car. The windows are black and tinted so I can’t see inside. For, what feels like an eternity, I stare into the black abyss. The windows roll down and I get a peak at my executioner. Two 16 year old high school kids laughing hysterically. “We got your ass!” is shouted as they speed away.

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