I was the typical good girl in high school. While all my friends were getting busted for shoplifting, I was busy being scared of my parents. The blind fear that they instilled kept me from lifting cigarettes and bubble gum. I once pocketed a fake coral ring from a petting zoo gift shop and was so terrified my parents would find out that I buried it in the backyard. When I got my license, I would never dream of speeding (I've since grown out of that) for fear that my parents would ground me until graduation; a threat they made many, many times. Even though I never strayed to the wrong side of the law, I was still grounded for most of my high school years. Thus is the sad tale of the oldest child of strict parents. Once my youngest sister hit her teenage years, she could have been gang banged on the living room couch by all the members of the Backstreet Boys while my mother was cooking dinner in the next room and nothing would happen to her. My parents had been broken in by that time.
I still live by the letter of the law.....to a point. I swim in the gray area now and then. But, for the most part, I'm a good girl. I pay my taxes, help my fellow man and subject myself daily to the torture known as Satan's Workshop (aka my office).
Yesterday, I had just finished a grueling yoga class and stopped by the grocery store to grabs some stuff for dinner. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed a police car hanging out near the entrance. Having no fear that I was speeding (it was a parking lot and I was going 10 mph), I continued to bop along to the radio and chug my nasty green protein shake. I felt minor annoyance when he pulled out behind me and followed me as I cut through the mall parking lot and on to a side street. All I could think was "Great, now I can't coast through the Stop signs." We stopped at the lights and I snuck a peek in my review mirror at him. He was staring straight ahead at me with his mirrored sunglasses. I figured he would pull off on to the main road when the light turned green and I would be on my merry, unsupervised way. But, damn wouldn't you know he followed me straight on thru the lights and down the next side street. We travels on together for the next few miles or so doing exactly 35 mph (or the speed limit). I kept waiting for him to turn off, but he kept on following. We reached the end of what I will now think of as the "longest road EVER". there are only two directions to choose: left or right. I figured he would choose right because he was a Hyannis town cop and we were very close to the town line. This was the perfect opportunity for him to turn around and proceed with whatever ridiculous patrol he was on. But, no. He chose to follow me to the left. Now, I was feeling a little nervous. He had followed me for close to 5 miles. Where the hell was he going?
In less than a mile, was the entrance to my association. I couldn't get there fast enough. But, I plodded along at the posted speed of 40 mph. Mr. Black and White was 2 car lengths behind me and just cruising. I veered into the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief. Less than 2 miles 'til I was home and there was no reason for Mr. Cop Who Has Too Much Time On His Hands to enter into my neighborhood. I live in the most boring place on the planet. The average age is 102 years old and everyone goes to bed at 7 pm. The only drug deals that happen are for Viagra and Bengay.
But he followed me in. Now I was freaking out. Why was he still there? Did someone put a dead body in my truck while I was in the store and blood was leaking out of my exhaust pipe? Did I have a kilo of coke sitting in my back window? No....not today. I did a quick scan of my car in my head. Up-to-date registration? Check. Inspection sticker? Check. Insurance stuff? Check. Lights and other assorted bullshit reasons for cops to pull you over? Check. Everything was in working order.
He continued to remain tucked behind me as we navigated the speed bumps and the old fossils out for their evening constitution. They eyeballed me as I passed with Officer Not So Subtle close at my heels. I'm sure the phones lines were burning up later on that evening. Big K and I are the black sheep of the neighborhood. We don't involve ourselves with the association politics. When we moved in, I ignored the "Welcoming Committees" (aka The People Who Want To Come In Your House To Check Out Your Stuff) phone calls to come over and bring a plant as a welcoming gift. We've had a black mark next to our name in the roster book ever since. I'm sure my being followed by a cop through the neighborhood just added to the stigma.
The configuration of our neighborhood is strange and it's actually located in two towns. The next town starts just as you cross over on to my street. Big Cop stopped at the town line and watched as I drove the 1000 or so feet to my driveway. He watched and waited for me to pull in before turning around in the street and driving off.
I'm not sure if I should be spooked by this or what. I mentioned the incident to TH and his response was "Fucking Cops! I can't believe you wanted to be one of those". Yes, my hero.
So, was it one of you? I realize I have been absent for some time but that is no excuse to call the cops!