Wednesday, April 14, 2010

PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND SPREAD 'EM, YOUNG LADY!


Why is it that every time I see a cop go by my heart sinks to the ground? As I sat out in the parking lot eating my lunch today (yeah, you heard me right...I'm the kind of girl who hides in far-off parking spaces way out in East Jeebus in the parking lot so I can suck down my food...true story) an entire squadron of po-po walked right past my car. All of them were fully decked out in uniforms that said "POLICE" on the back, bulletproof vests, and they were packin'. I froze with my food-in-hand and waited while all of them walked past both side of my car. I was still like a statue--didn't make a move. If mannequins were allowed to have driver's licenses I would've been mistaken for one, for sure. After the policemen made their way across the rest of the parking lot to Subway I finally took a deep breath and felt like I could relax and get down to business with my food again. I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG! Why do I feel this way? It's like I feel they are going to bust me for anything...ANYTHING! "Yes officer! I DID take more than my fair share of Wint-O-green Life Savers out of the bowl in the lobby the last time I had a Brazilian bikini wax!" "Yes officer...I DID call that guy a monkey effer when he cut me off on the road!" "Yes officer!...I DID flash my headlights at oncoming cars when I saw you were trying to clock people's speed to warn them that you were just over the hill waiting to bust them for speeding!" These crimes I have committed are obviously eating away at me--so much so that my heart takes the Nestea plunge every time I see the po-po go by.

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