Reason #382 Why Life’s Not Fair
mom, telling me about my parents’ weekend trip to Texas: Your dad and I got a little visit from the Hurst Police on the way to Aunt Helen’s house.
me, casually: Again? He didn’t talk himself out of this ticket, did he?
mom: Well, as a mattera fact, he did.
me, incredulous: WHAT?! You’re kidding. You’ve got to be kidding.
mom, turning to dad in the background: What is this honey? Your fourth warning? Fifth?
[I can't hear his response. Probably a good thing.]
mom: And the cop followed us for seven miles with your dad weaving in and out of traffic. You know how he does. And then the cop finally put his siren on, and we were both like, ‘what’s going on?’
For the rest of the conversation, my voice spirals upward into shrillness, as I go on about how I have NEVER been able to talk myself out of a speeding ticket. Speeding tickets for which I pull over immediately, thank you very much, because some of us actually pay attention to the road. My dad just looks all innocent and humble and the police officers always say, “Have a nice day, careful out there!” They take one look at me and start scribbling. AND HOW IS THIS FAIR?!?! HOW DID THIS GENE SKIP ME?!?
* * *
current book: about 3/4 done with Blood Meridian, and actually enjoying it.
current music: uh, Calexico.
current socks: brown, blue, and green argyle. tall and fuzzy.
Posted 25 September 2006
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