Wise man's bluff

I was eyeballing the small town cop in my rear-view mirror as he slowly got out of his cruiser and approached the back of my custom van with the gold running boards, mag wheels, and tinted oversize windows. The 302 was purring like a tiger cub on a teat.

"SHUT IT OFF!!!" the grizzled old radar trapper yelled at me.

And so I did with a grin, shaking my head. I had just successfully came to a complete stop and looked both ways before continuing on at 10mph for the 12th block in a row with him right on my bumper.

And he pulled me over anyway.

That's what I get for asking a cop for directions.

Was he eyeballing me over the top of those $1.99 aviator's glasses, or studying the ground for his lost clue?

Removing my M-frame Oakleys I realized I had seen this piece of work before. Hmmmm. Where do I know this cat from?

I'd only been to this town twice, and the first time a buddy was driving in the front seat while in the backseat a girl was showing me her prowess at the game of hide the sausage.

The second time....oooh shit. That's the guy I held the door for at the stop n rob last week up here. The one who was standing behind me while I was complaining about their lack of choice in rolling papers.

Shit.

I got a little bit of that bomb-diggety in my pocket. Easy now. Everything's gonna work out. Don't get jumpy.

"Why don't you step on down out of that van now?" Did he actually pull my door open? Whoa!

Can they do that? Either way, he just did.

Now I'm standing there looking down about seven inches on this little guy in a very uncomfortable-looking uniform with a big grin on his face.

You'd think he just ate a canary.

"Wanna tell me what you doin over here on this side of town hippie?" He actually leaned forward as he posed his question. The more to try to intimidate me I suppose.

Hippie? Oh no! I'm in a time warp. This cat still thinks there's hippies around. I guess with my big goatee and french braid down to my ass, driving that van, I must look like a hippie to him.

Refugee from a Rob Zombie video was the look I was going for at the time.

Well, like I told ya when I pulled you over a few minutes ago officer, I have this rental list, and I'm looking for this address so I can see the house that is available. I hadn't been paying attention to what he looked like when I passed him on the street, and asked him to help me with an address.

He was the least helpful cop I've ever approached for help with anything, and that's saying something.

"White folks don't live down here on this side of town son." It was a command rather than a statement.

They don't? Is that legal officer? I mean, to tell me I can't live somewhere because I'm the wrong color...

He smiled even more broadly and exclaimed "This is a high-crime drug area."

Ah. Well that just explains everything now doesn't it?

Obviously this guy thinks he is just the man who is going to tell me how things are, and how they are going to be. What's the best way to play this....hmmmm. Obviously he thinks I'm a moron, so lets play along. Okay, I'm stupid.

Seeing that I'm thinking this over, he pushes on.

"Have you got a criminal record?"

No.

"I need to see your driver's license."

Wow. We're 5 minutes into this, and now he wants to see my license? Something smells bad, I'm thinking. He didn't ask for my insurance. I'll think maybe I'll just get it for him. I pull out my license, and hand it to him with two fingers. As he takes it and looks at the information, I turn to go get the insurance out of the van.

"Hey where do you think you're going?" He puts his hand on his revolver. Wow. This guy has got some serious issues, I'm thinking.

To get my insurance card. You need that too don't you? I know I'm really pushing my luck here. Like dancing with a rattlesnake. Fascinating.

"Your license was first issued only a year ago, but you're 27. Why is that?" My interrogator demands.

I moved here from out of state I tell him. Duh. What is this guy's problem?

"And you have no record anywhere?"

No sir.

"Well we will just see what we can't do about that!" he exclaims. Is that glee? OMG this guy is having a good time here. This ain't cool at all. Did he just offer to get me a criminal record? Man this guy might be trouble.

"Where do you work?"

I'm in between jobs right now.

"How do you support yourself?"

My wife works.

"What does she do?"

She works in a nightclub.

"The strip place up on the highway?"

Yep.

"And you ain't got no record?"

Nope. Third times a charm. Why is this so hard to believe?

"And you only been in Georgia for a year?"

Yep.

"Is there anything I should know about in that van before I go through it?"

Yeah, there is, officer. There is a Glock model 21 .45 full of hollowpoints under the driver's seat. And in a little card holder over the visor you'll find my permit to carry it.

"I'll just bet that was issued the same time your license was too, hunh?"

What the heck is up this guy's ass? I'm thinking. Slowly it begins to dawn on me what's up. If you're incorrigible enough, this could be worth a chuckle, I start to believe.

Could this be my angle? Is opportunity knocking at the door?

Will our hero yet again escape the clutches of the vile and dastardly po-lice?

Well yeah, I got my permit the first week I lived here, just like my license. It's the law ya know, that you have to change your license within so many days of moving.

You could have cut the insolence with a knife.

The smile vanished from his face. The guy became very grave and serious all of a sudden, he leaned into me in that annoying way he has once again and said in a low voice...

"Mister, just who are you working for anyway?"

The hook was set, the fish on the line, and with net in hand I said to him:

Officer, even if I was working for some other law enforcement agency, the last thing in the world I'd be able to do is discuss it with you, and you ought to know that. Don't ask me any questions that could land us both in trouble. And I thrust my jaw out at him and put my hands on my hips and stared him down.

He left in such a hurry, he forgot all about searching my van, and had to walk back to me from his car to return my driver's license, which he fished out of his front pocket where he had put it.

I think I made him wet his pants.

Months later I was getting ready to leave that small town. I had found decent work in a bigger city. I saw a friend's son walking down the street and offered the kid a ride.

"Hey man, do you mind if I stop at my buddy's house and get a bag? I'll burn one with ya." my friend's kid said to me.

No problem I said, where do you want to go?

Oh, he stays out by where the cops keep their meth lab. You know where that is don'tcha?

After he said that I decided it would be unwise to waste any time moving out of town. Skitzer cops. Thats what the world needs!