I thought that since today was Superbowl Sunday, the cops would be out in full force. I docked my speed at lighted sections of the highway, sneered at people who passed me, and looked sharp for patrol cars.
I saw one. One car in (quick calculation) about 400 miles of highway. This letter is for that car.
________
Dear lonely patrol car,
I had gotten cocky. I had started to think all of you were at home, happily watching the Superbowl, or patrolling regular roads (not highways) in search of drunk drivers. I think I actually found one or two of those if you're interested. But anyway, I was cruising along, 80 in a 65, and then I started to see the ticketing carnage. First, one car with headlights on and right blinker on, hanging out on the side of the highway. Presumably he or she was getting it together after facing you, trying to get ready to merge onto the highway again after breathing a little and looking at that ticket for...how many hundred dollars? I was immediately on alert, and I watched out for you. "WHERE ARE YOU?" I said in my head. Then another car, headlights on, blinker on, but you weren't there. I drove carefully, on the watch for you for twenty miles. Then came the place where the 65 goes down to 55, where the markings on the road become impossible to see, and where the highway gets awkwardly curvy and goes over that bridge (would you talk to the NCDOT about that stuff by the way? that always scares the hell out of me), and then I saw you. A little ways down the road, blue lights flashing. Hey there baby. I slowed to 55 and got in the left lane (since I always cut over for stopped emergency vehicles) and laughed cruelly as I passed you. I went down the hill and got back up to 80 after it went back to 65. I figured you were the only one out there, and you were.
Kudos to you, lonely car. You stopped three people in a fairly short stretch of highway, and you were the only cop I saw out on the road at all tonight (other than one who had stopped at a wreck). I wouldn't be surprised if half the DOT income from tickets comes from you, because you are a badass. Props.
With respect,
Allison
________
Needless to say, before I found the real cop, I kind of thought everyone else was cops. To the silver Charger without police markings, I'll make it quick: I like that ambiguity. Keeps me on my toes. I think you weren't a cop but I was careful anyway.
________
To the guy in the Jetta that had metal letters spelling "ALEX" to the right/top of the rear ("JETTA" was on the left/top of the rear, so it was nice and parallel): HI ALEX. What made you want to spell your name on your car? There aren't that many black Jettas you know, and you could always ID with the license plate since that's what that's for. Although it does give me a name to call you when I'm yelling at you for going too slowly in front of me in the left lane. GET OVER JETTA just doesn't have the same ring as ALEX YOU ASSHOLE. Thanks for that. Also next time, try to get the font a touch closer to that of the model name and you will really be impressing the ladies.
________
To Cristal, or the driver of the old green SUV that had "CRISTAL" in Gothic lettering on the back glass: Are you sure you want to do 90 in a 65 and pass people on the right? I hope your tires are rated for that speed or you will maybe die in an awful rollover accident. Keep that in mind. [Also, as a side note, everybody needs to keep their tires inflated well, at least to the manual specs and maybe even more. Not only does it improve mileage but it decreases the likelihood of a blowout since the sidewalls aren't flexing so much.]
________
To the semi in the 2nd-to-leftmost lane on a six lane highway: What the hell is wrong with you? Go to the 2nd-to-rightmost where you belong. In traffic like this, when you're holding things up by being in this lane, it sure would be nice if you thought of others.
________
To ALL DRIVERS, EVERYWHERE: When I come up behind you and get close enough that you know I want you to move, and when you unreasonably don't want to, why is it that EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU drifts to the righthand side of your lane but doesn't go to the other lane? What is that supposed to mean? Should I look on it as courtesy, like "hey man, you know, I'd like to sit here and inconvenience you a little while longer, but once we get past the semi I'll get over (unless there's another)"? Or should I look on it as a threat, like "don't pass me on the right DON'T DO IT I swear I will run into you"? Or is it just this inner stupidity in all of us? Do we want to get over but we're afraid of the white line? Do we mean to let the person behind us pass in the third of a lane to our left? I don't get it, guys.
________
To pickups: Why are you NEVER pulled over? I have seen three semis pulled over in all my time driving to and from Atlanta, but I have never seen a pickup pulled over. Do you run from the cops? Do the cops feel a kinship to you? Does Dodge have a deal with the government?
________
To deer: I am really afraid of you. When I drive on backcountry roads rated 55, I go 40 or 45 with my brights on, desperately scanning the brush to the left and right. I have heard all these terrible stories of accidents with deer. I don't care about my car as much as I could, but I care about me, and deer are really heavy, and I don't want them in my driver's seat on top of me. With their antlers. Deer, I even had a dream about you the other night where I was fighting one of you with my bare hands. I won. Let that be a warning to you.
________
So I think that's it. Upcoming this week (I think) will be an account of my visit to Carmax for an appraisal for Birdy, as well as a couple of tips for cops and a rant about highway safety. That last one sounds really boring. But if you don't read it you won't know JUST how boring it is.
Also my check engine light came back on, so I'm gonna take Birdy to my favorite mechanic and see what he says. Depending on the results I may not even be going to Atlanta next weekend (don't worry darling, I will certainly try).
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