On Citing People, Part One
I’m in vehicle sixteen and parked in
plain sight. Words-with-Friends may
be open, but I still study an intersection.
A tiny green “Smart Car” roars through
the limit line and I grin.
My cell phone hits my duty
bag as the accelerator is smashed.
The stares and mouths agape never
gets old. Within moments, I’ve tracked
my prey and call it in cautiously
checking for hazards. Patiently, I wait
for my gut and eyes to
digest what’s in front of me.
Ticket or warning? The egregious
violator pulls over. Cautiously, I creep
along his mini vehicle, tapping my
gun handle and peering into the
cab, searching for the driver’s hands.
I start my spiel… anger and
saliva are his rebuttal. Geez
guy, it’s just a ticket…verbal
Judo fails, a soft smile fails,
hands conveying peace fails. I consider
a hasty retreat, walking away since
it’s not worth it, but I’ve
seen this routine before. Ah ha!
Now I smell it, the “medicine”
that causes some people to act
imbecilic. I’m into the car now,
sniffing and searching like a canine.
I find his stash, the reason for
the deflection, his attempt to throw
me off my game. Now he’s
in handcuffs, and I smirk.
I impound the “Smart Car,” which causes
the tow truck driver, a mean,
gruff, and burly man, to point
and chuckle at the accused…judging
him without a robe or wig.
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