two items of interest (maybe)

First, if you have any interest in language, linguistics, humor, or speaking, you need to read this. Thanks goes to Nate for pointing it out to me and making this linguistics-obsessed cousin's day. ;oD This poem makes me so happy, I could just do the potato wave.

Second, early Thursday afternoon, a cop pulled me over while I was driving north on Penn between Britton and Hefner. My first thought was that I must have been speeding--though I was pretty sure I couldn't have been going more than 36 or 37 in a 35mph zone.

I pulled off at a gas station, and even though I knew I hadn't done anything spectacularly terrible, my heartrate started going up. It only got worse as the officer came to my open car window and asked for my license and registration. As I handed him my license, I realized that my hands were shaking.

Great. I hope he doesn't notice.

That's stupid. He's a cop. Of course he's going to notice.

The trembling only increased when I pulled out the flimsy registration paper, which betrayed me by fluttering madly as I handed it to the cop. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes at myself. *That*, I figured, would not go over well if he misunderstood the gesture.

"Well, Courtney," he said--

--and inwardly, I did a double-take at being addressed by my first name by a Person Of Authority, which would never occur in the formal society I grew up in--

"Well, Courtney, you're not in big trouble today. Just a little trouble."

Oh good. I guess. That's good, right? Does that mean I'm not getting a ticket, I hope?

"You changed lanes kinda fast back there--"

I know. I did it on purpose. I wanted to get in that space before the motorcycle got too close.

"--without signaling--"

I did, too, signal! I just maybe flipped the switch off again before the light actually started blinking. ;o)

"--and in front of that motorcycle."

I knew the bike was there. I was watching him the whole time. I was always aware of exactly where the front and back ends of my car were in relation to the pickup in front of me and the bike behind me.

As the officer spoke, I nodded in what I hoped were the right places and gave him what probably looked like a sheepish smile.***

"I'm sorry," I said. "I thought I signaled..."

Fortunately, his smile and understanding nod saved me from having to elaborate on what I thought I'd done. I trailed off as he handed back my license and registration.

"Just pay better attention, Courtney. And behave yourself."

*gasp* And egad! You know me!!!

"Okay," I said with a laugh that wasn't at all fake in its shakiness.

Zounds! I'm not getting a ticket! How disgawestomely cramazing** is this?!

"Thank you," said I.

"Have a good day," said he, walking back to his cruiser.

He got in and drove away. I grinned like a loon to myself, ignored the residual adrenaline rush, and continued on my merry way to Walmart.

The End.


**Okay, so those weren't my exact words, since those terms had yet to be invented by Your Truly, but I like to think the sentiment was the same.

***For those of you who suspect I might be tempted: No eyelash-batting took place during the course of this incident.