If you’ve ever been to Rome, Georgia, you know that the town is almost famous for the number of cops around. Rome has the highest number of cops per capita in the state and something like the 4th highest in the country. I think they might have one assigned to watch each and every red light in town. The irony is that when you run your Mustang into a brick mailbox castle it takes one of them about 4 hours to get there, then they accuse you of speeding. Thank you Captain Obvious.
Anyway, the cops tend to congregate around Broad Street on Friday and Saturday nights, which is probably a welcome change from pulling third shift stakeout duty down at the Texaco all week long. They patrol the sidewalk and randomly ask for id’s in front of all the bars, making sure to get the full power trip. Yeah, they may have made C’s in middle school and only barely passed their G.E.D’s, but on the weekends they act as the long, dumb arm of the law.
A few weekends back I was leaving a local cigar bar with a friend of mine. The bar is 18-to-party, so it wasn’t illegal for me to be in there, but when my friend and I walked out, a cop right by the door gave me a judgmental look, almost as if to say “I hate you for having a future.” I didn’t think anything about it since it happens all the time, and Matt and I walked walked to his car and pulled out. From where he had been parked, we had to turn left onto Broad Street and go back past the bar we had left.
When Matt turned he got into the right lane, but saw that there was a police cruiser parked there and swerved over to the left to avoid hitting it. The cop who had glared at me literally flew to his car, started up the siren, and came after us. Matt pulled over and the cop took his time making his way up to the car. I’ve known Matt a long time and since he’s a pre-law student, he likes to take full advantage of his rights.
Cop: Son, just what were you doing back there?
Matt: I believe that was driving, sir.
Cop: Don’t get smart with me son. You aren’t in a position to be shooting off wisecracks. You were all over the road back there.
Matt: Well sir, I turned and when I noticed your cruiser was illegally parked in the middle of the lane I got over to avoid hitting it and getting you in trouble.
That’s right. As it turns out, if a police officer doesn’t have at least his flashers on, his car is in no way privileged from anyone else’s. So leaving his car in the middle of the lane was illegal.
The officer told us he would be back and walked off, talking on his radio. He sounded a little angry then started heading back towards our car. My guess is that he was consulting another officer about the best way to counter Matt’s argument, because he came back with gusto and a whole new angle.
Officer: Son, have you been doing any drinking tonight?
Matt: Well no sir. I’m not 21, so that would be illegal, sir.
Officer: Would you be willing to submit to a breathalyzer?
Matt: Well that depends, Officer. Does it detect crack?
The officer didn’t take too kindly to that and called for backup. We ended up sitting there for about a half hour with Matt debating with the officers as to whether he had actually broken any laws. As it turned out he hadn’t and we eventually got to go free. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful for us, but I’m sure those cops spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out if Matt had been serious about the crack comment or not. I guess that’s a secret that will remain between me, him, and the guy that sold us the crack.
Josh