…because I was in a white truck, involved in a low-speed police pursuit today. Went on for a couple of miles.*
The funny part is, I was the pursuer.
I checked out of the hotel this morning at eleven, giving me four hours to kill before grabbing a bite with Matt G after his shift ended.
So, I drove through the idiot gauntlet known as the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex, heading vaguely north toward Deepinahearta, Texas. Now, this is a small town that Matt patrols, folks.
It says “Welcome to Deepinahearta” and “You are now leaving “Deepinahearta” …
…on the same damned sign.
I’m not saying it was small, but the town hall was a Porta John in a previous life. The mayor would have had to step outside to change his mind.
It was so small, whenever the single, lonely traffic light changed from green to red, all the other electronic signs on Main Street flickered.
Holly and Matt’s dad had told me that he’d be easy to find. “Just drive around the donut shops and look for a patrol car,” they told me. “He’ll be the big guy with crumbs on his chest.”
Sure enough, I found him pretty easy. As I drove through town, my first clue was the white Plymouth PT Cruiser frantically flashing his headlights at oncoming traffic.
Aha, thought I. Methinks a Minion Of The Law doth approacheth.
Sure enough, a hundred yards behind the PT Cruiser, comes Matt’s patrol car easing through town, no doubt wondering if it was opening weekend of dove season or if his town had been invaded by the 82nd Chairborne Division. I haven’t seen that much camo in one place since I last cleaned out my closet.
As I pulled abreast and recognized the big guy, I waved dementedly at him through the windshield like a crazed fanboy, but apparently he did not notice the erratically-driving white Dodge Dakota with rusty primer hood and Louisiana plates.
Observant fellow, our Matt.
So, I whipped an illegal U-ey right there in front of the Police Department, and broke all the posted speed limits catching up to him.
Hey, I’m a bad boy. Chicks dig it.
Apparently though, Matt was asleep at the wheel of his cruiser, and just making his rounds through town using pure muscle memory. Folks, I tailgated a police officer through three residential neighborhoods, two strip malls, and four donut shop parking lots…
…and he never noticed.
I flashed my lights. I stuck my arm out the window and waved. I called his cellphone and left snarky messages. I was tempted to try a PIT maneuver.
The only thing I didn’t do was bum rush the car and knock on the window. I did that once, on a dare. It did not go well.
[note to all readers: Never flag down a Louisiana State Police cruiser, rush desperately to his driver’s window, and then ask him where you can find all the best titty bars. He will not be amused.]
Eventually though, he became cognizant of someone behind him and pulled into a parking lot, no doubt to give me what-for.
So I pulled alongside him, rolled down my passenger window, and yelled…
“Pardon me, but would you have any Grey Poupon?”
He didn’t have any mustard on him (other than the suspicious stain on his uniform shirt), but he did indicate that I was Number One.
We cruised through his burg, looking for the rare eatery open on Labor Day, and finally settled on a nearby roadside steakhouse. Holly and his dad joined us there, and a good time was had by all. They are some truly nice folks.
On that note, Holly has her new blog up, and I’d like to shamelessly pimp it here. It’s a social work/free advice/state resource referral blog, entitled “No BS From A BSW.” Holly intends it to be an omnibus resource of sorts for those needy people bewildered by the maze of state agencies and bureaucratic red tape.
I’d imagine most of the referral and contact information she can provide would be Texas-specific, but no doubt she has a wealth of knowledge about federal agencies, regulations and programs as well. If you have friends or family members in need of advice or help in determining just who they need to contact, I’d urge you to drop her a line on her blog.
Bookmark it if need be, and spread the word. She’s got a lot of help to offer.
*The author reserves the right to use hyperbole, sarcasm and outright fabrication in describing the following events, purely for comedic effect. Any stereotypical reference to police officers enjoying donuts is included purely for comedic effect. Besides, everybody knows that cops actually dig eclairs.