I drove to downtown Columbus today, to the Center of Science and Industry (COSI), to find some stocking stuffers at the gift shop for the boys. I purposely took the minivan for the navi because, although we’ve lived here for umpteen years, I still don’t know my way around. I pulled out of COSI, taking a right after mini-pausing for a red light, and went up Broad.
I thought the navi was telling me one of its lies again. It was saying that I couldn’t take a left on Marconi. But if you looked at the map, you could easily cut through Marconi and get onto 315N from there. Kinda.
Never ask me for directions.
I looked down Marconi and realized why the navi was, in fact, telling the truth this time. Marconi is a one way. I couldn’t take a left. I’d have to go straight and take the next left.
I’m at the light, waiting to take a left and in my rearview there is a cop car with his lights flashing. He is obviously not in a hurry to get to some crime scene because he’s not blaring his siren. Maybe he’ll do that when he gets closer to the crack district.
I take my left, and Oh, look, what a coincidence! He’s going this way, too!
I get over in the right lane so he can pass me but he doesn’t take me up on my generous offer. Instead, he taps on his siren. Me? He wants me? Why me? Damn, I only mini-paused at that red light coming out of COSI? I bet that’s it.
He approaches my car and I unroll my window and wait for him to ask me if I know why he stopped me.
“Do you know why I stopped you?”
“No?”
“You went through a red light.”
“Coming out of COSI? When I took a right on Broad?”
I don’t know how long he was following me. He must have let that one slide because he smiled and said, “No, on Broad and Marconi. You almost got T-boned.”
“I did? Oh, I didn’t see that light. I was looking down Marconi to see why my navi said I couldn’t take a left.”
He asks for my driver’s license and my insurance card. I retrieve my license from my wallet with the picture that makes me look like a misplaced nymph. There must have been grease on the lens at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Maybe they churned out a lot of nymphs that day.
Then he asks for my insurance card. I start to panic because Skye just cleaned out the minivan so we can sell it. I open the glove and it’s in there, thank God, in a plastic pocket that houses every insurance card Allstate has ever issued us in the lifetime of that van.
I look at the date. It’s valid. I hand it to him.
He has crooked teeth and brown round eyes. And he’s short. That’s all I’ve got on him. No name tag. I was too shook up to notice anything but the teeth, eyes and height.
I watch in my rearview while chanting, please don’t give me a ticket, please don’t give me a ticket, please don’t give me a ticket. In the meantime, another cop car pulls up behind the first car. It makes it look like he needed backup. I sink in my seat and start to notice people around me. I meet eyes with a black man in a van, parked at the intersection just in front of me, about to take a right out of the alley. He sees the two cop cars and he wonders what I did. Our eyes lock for longer than a minute. He makes the kind of eye contact that says, “I’ve been there, sister.” I am too upset to realize how funny this is.
My girlfriend, just the other day, was repeating a Dave Chappelle-ism, “Isn’t it funny that black people always know the law and white people never do?”
I feel like I’m taking one for the white team, to balance the imbalance. I’m bummed that I spent too much money at the gift shop because now I’m going to have to pay for this ticket, not to mention the hike in the insurance rate.
The man in the van pulls away quietly as the cop returns to my car. He says, “I’m not going to ruin your perfect record by giving you a ticket, but be careful.” He hands me back my license and insurance card and says, “Since it’s just before Christmas, think of this as a present from the Columbus Police Department.”
Thank, God. I didn’t want to have to resort to telling him “My friend Trixie’s brother is a Columbus cop and he gave me this free get out of jail card.” I’m saving that for when I really need it. You never know.
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