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Smile, Hon, You're in Baltimore!
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Willam P. Tandy
c/o Eight-Stone Press
PO Box 11064
Baltimore, MD
21212 USA
wpt@eightstonepress.com

Cop Stop
By Geoffrey Welchman

One morning, I was driving down Cold Spring Lane, humming along to a song on the car stereo. As I pulled into the left-turn lane, I glanced up at the rearview mirror, where I saw a police cruiser slide into the lane right behind me.

The sight of a police cruiser – any police cruiser – usually prompts a panicked glance at my dashboard, but that morning I was feeling pretty confident that I was beyond official reproach. I was driving safely, and my car had all its teeth.

Taking a closer look at the police car, though, I couldn't help noticing that one of the cruiser's headlights was dead!
Could it be? Am I seeing things?

No, the left headlight was definitely out. Several past occasions raced through my mind – stops for an expired registration sticker, or a broken tail or brake light – along with that attendant feeling of mild humiliation as I sat waiting for the officer to walk the long, slow walk from the police car to mine.

How can I resist? The irony is too delicious!

Confirming that the stoplight was still red, I stepped out of my car and, keeping my hands in plain sight and smiling broadly, I wandered back to the cruiser. The driver's eyes narrowed slightly as I approached, but nonetheless his window rolled down.

I gave a cheery wave as I stepped up to the driver's-side window; he gave a curt nod in reply. Trying hard not to give in to the giggles, I uttered the following highly satisfying sentence:

Good morning, officer – were you aware that your left headlight is out?

Time froze while his face registered what I was saying, and searched mine for a motive: I think he noticed the twinkle in my eye. Luckily, he was a good sport about it, and could see the humor in the situation.

We chuckled about it for a few moments, and then he shot me.

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