Sunday, May 22, 2016

Driving At The Speed of Guilt

(Studio City) On Saturday, the LAPD pulled over the Short Jewish Gal and gave her a nice ticket for an illegal guilt maneuver. "Is it the hair, officer? Is that why you had to sound your fancy siren and give me a heart attack?" "No, ma'am." "Just admit it, officer. You don't like the hair." "Driver's license, please." "Sure, officer, in a minute. You think I should've gone shorter, right?" "License, ma'am." "I went too short last time. The sides stuck out. It was a little too Bozo. So I told my gal, 'Less Bozo, more chic.'  She started to weep. I feel bad about that, I do, but sometimes, officer, you have to be honest with your people." "Insurance." "If it's not the hair that you think deserves an expensive fine just to help keep the city running, what is it, then? Wait, don't tell me. Is it the face?  Did I make the classic SJG Face at you when I drove by? This wouldn't be the first time I got busted for that offense. I once got sent to the Girl's VP in 7th grade for making the face in Girl's Glee. Nothing gleeful going on in that class, believe me. But hey, it's my face, officer. Aren't I entitled to use it any way I want?" "Registration."
"Coming right up, officer.  If it's not the hair and it's not the face, why are you pulling me over, when I'm not feeling great? Did I mention I have a cold? I'm a little run down. You have no idea what I've been through lately. I go out of town for two minutes and suddenly, the youngest is talking about moving out. Is this a moving violation? I'm pretty sure I was driving at the speed of guilt. Slow and deliberate." "You were driving while jet-lagged, ma'am." "Oh, that." "You don't even know what time zone you're in, do you, ma'am ?" "You got me there, officer." "You shouldn't be out on the road, ma'am. You need to go home and nap. I'm letting you off with a warning. Don't get behind the wheel till you're on West Coast time." "You're a mensch, officer. Your mama raised you right." "Thank you, ma'am." "When's the last time you called her?" "I can't remember." "Shame on you, officer. Shame on you." "Are you trying to guilt me, ma'am?" "Maybe." "It's working."

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