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That’s how far our society has fallen: Crime is entertainment.
You find out how people really feel about you after you commit a crime.
I committed mine on the way home from church on Sunday.
The officer’s lights flashed.
“You’re not taking me without a fight!” I screamed in my mind. But before I could slam my foot on the gas pedal to escape, my conscience got the better of me, and I eased onto the grassy shoulder.
Although my heart was racing as he walked up behind me, I really had no idea what I had done wrong. Maybe he was just hoping to ask me for some advice? Maybe he recognized me as the newspaper guy and wanted to subscribe — like right now?
My 15-year-old daughter, Ellie, was in the front passenger seat. “My dad committed a crime,” she said quietly to herself, grinning.
Apparently running afoul of the law was exciting to her. That’s how far our society has fallen: Crime is entertainment.
The officer approached in my side mirror. It felt like we were all playing parts in an episode of a TV show. I think my line is, “Is there a problem officer?”
And then he senses my fear and demands to search under the seats. But really — there’s nothing under the seats except for a Pop-Tarts wrapper! And it’s not even mine! I swear!
“License and registration, please,” the officer said.
Man, oh man. This was getting serious.
Just then, three vehicles passed by: all friends from church. All recognized my van.
One texted me sarcastically: “Do you need someone to bail you out?”
Getting pulled over in public, in broad daylight, was apparently the beginning of the punishment.
But was it really sarcastic? Maybe my friend knew something I didn’t? Had she set me up?
I’ve been framed?!
As it turned out, my crime was forgivable, given my squeaky clean record.
“You ran a stop sign back there,” the officer said finally. Then he clarified: “You might have stopped a little, a California stop, but not enough. We need to be more careful.”
“Yes sir!” I said, a little too eagerly.
Then I panicked again. Should I have said, “Yes sir”? When am I supposed to say, “I need to talk to my lawyer”? Then the officer said: “I’m going to let you go with a verbal warning.”
A warning?
I’m saved!
I will be able to see my wife and kids tonight after all! I can keep access to my bank account, rather than transferring all my money to the commissary so I can buy snacks in jail.
As we left, I regained my confidence and started talking tough to impress Ellie.
“I think I’ll run the next stop sign, just to show that officer who’s boss,” I said.
Ellie wasn’t impressed. She said, “I didn’t know my dad was a 17-year-old hooligan.”
When we arrived in the driveway, Ellie walked into the house and said, “Dad committed a crime!”
I stayed in the van for a few minutes, gathering my kids’ discarded water bottles — and that Pop-Tarts wrapper.
