Sunday, June 1, 2014

Seeing Red

We live near a large state university, the same one that Jen and I both graduated from, back in the day, and 4M just recently (and my dad, a few days before that).  Large enough to have its own on-campus police force (colloquially known to the locals as the Kampus Kops), comprised to a fairly large extent of Criminal Justice majors who aspire to be real police officers someday.  And therein hangs a tale or two. . .

The MSU campus is, not to put too fine a point on it, huge.  A couple square miles, at least.  Which works out to well over 1000 acres, and that doesn't even count the farms to the south of the 'built-up' campus.  So, depending on where one is going, there are certain corners of our metro area that almost inevitably entail driving across campus, in one direction or another.  Which, because of the Kampus Kops, can sometimes (even often?) be waaaayyyy more painful than it needs to be.  Nineteen-year-olds with badges.  How could this possibly go wrong?

It has become apparent, through long experience, that the young Kampus Kops have been taught that people who are careless and unconcerned about things like obeying the law, are often careless and unconcerned about other, smaller things, and that the aspiring young officer of the law, by taking watchful note of these small markers of lawlessness, will often bag bigger Bad Guys than would seem to first meet the eye, because the petty scofflaw is the outward presentation of the Major Criminal.  Dontchaknow.

And so it came to pass, one fine Sunday evening, as Jen and I returned home from a prayer meeting (the geography of which made for a significant advantage if one chose a cross-campus route on the way home), that, about halfway across the two-mile expanse of the campus (and a lovely campus it is, if I may say so myself), I was summoned by flashing red-and-blue lights atop the vehicle behind me.

ME (thinking): What the heck?  I'm watching my speed (just for the sake of saying so, several members of our family had recently been ticketed on campus for 3-over-the-limit, and similar severe crimes).  What is this all about?

A couple minutes pass while the officer runs the standard check on my plate number.  Then the officer gets out of his squad car and proceeds to my window.  Knowing the drill, I hand him my driver's license, vehicle registration, and proof of insurance.  Looking up, I see a pimply-faced young man trying to look as stern as he possibly can.  He seems momentarily taken aback to find himself face-to-face with a gray-haired gentleman.

KAMPUS KOP:  Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?

The classic cop-question to put the driver-miscreant on the defensive.  I searched my brain cells for anything I might have done to attract the attention of this erstwhile specimen of MSU's Finest.  I knew I wasn't speeding, and I was taking a route across campus that didn't entail any turns, so I hadn't failed to signal a turn.  Finally, after a minute or so, I admitted defeat.

ME:  I'm sorry, officer, I have no idea.

Actually, I'm kinda curious to find out.

KK (with a triumphal, even smug air): You have a broken tail-light.

So that's it!  Of course!  I don't even remember how the tail-light lens came to be broken, but in researching the replacement cost of the tail-light, I got a number distressingly close to $200, so I decided that I wasn't going to pay that kind of money to replace a tail-light that was still entirely functional.  I made my way to the auto parts store and purchased a roll of red tail-light tape, with which to cover the hole, and restore the red parts of the tail-light to their original redness.

ME (a little confused):  But I taped it over with the red tail-light tape. . .

KK:  Well. . . it's the wrong shade of red.

He looked me right in the eye with a straight face as he said this.  I looked him straight in the eye right back, not saying a word for a minute or more.

ME (thinking):  Did you just say 'WRONG SHADE OF RED'???  ARE YOU F***ING SH***ING ME???  'WRONG F***ING SHADE OF RED'???  Does it even occur to you how f***ing brain-dead STUPID that sounds?  You pimple-pocked puke!  I wanna talk to the genius that gave you a badge!

ME (out loud, very respectfully):  Uhhhh, I'm sorry officer, but I specifically bought 'Tail-Light Tape'.  (I fished around in the glove-box for the remnant of the roll, still in its package, which proclaimed in large, bold letters that it was, indeed, no-fooling, 'TAIL-LIGHT TAPE').  Is there a different brand I should have bought?

At this point, the young officer-wannabe had a look on his face like he had a stomach-ache, and wished he could be anywhere else.  That damn cracked tail-light was supposed to belong to the biggest drug-dealer on campus, not some gray-haired decent-citizen type who was probably older than his dad.  And the old guy saw right through his BS about 'the wrong shade of red'.  The search was now on for a not-too-badly-failed graceful exit, although, to be brutally candid, it was already too late for that.

KK:  Well, uh, try to be more careful about how you repair your broken tail-lights, OK, sir?  I'll let you off with a warning this time.

ME (thinking):  'LET ME OFF WITH A WARNING'???  You BETTER freakin' let me off with a f***ing WARNING.  'Cuz if you ticket me, I am DEFINITELY contesting it, just to hear you say 'Wrong Shade of Red' to the judge, Idiot-Boy.

I'm thinking that it's not getting any better for the kid as words continue to come out of his mouth, so I just try to bring things to a merciful close, so I can be on my way.

ME:  OK, officer, I'll try to do that.

KK:  Thanks.  Have a good evening, sir.

ME:  I'll try.

ME (thinking):  Dumbass; there's 20 minutes of my life that I'll never get back. . .

18 comments:

  1. 50 years ago, after dropping off my date I was driving out of the campus well under the speed limit because, as you say, the KK's reputation for being assholes. A car came up behind me and began to tailgate me. I slowed down to let him pass, he did not, I sped up a little, he remained only several feet behind me. I sped up more, more of the same. Now I assumed it was some a-hole drunk college kid so I really stepped on it because I didn't want to get in a brawl. That is when the idiot flashed his bubblegum light and pulled me over. He ranted much as you describe about how I was speeding. I responded back that "I was not speeding until you attached yourself to my fender and I decided to get out of dodge before there was trouble. Why would you scare the crap out of me like that?" He decided to let me go with a warning. KK's all assholes even 50 years ago.

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    1. Niiiice. Sounds like your guy was at least as bright as mine, to realize that he really didn't want any part of telling it to a judge. . .

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  2. I remember the KK from my own college days, but none of my kids have ever mentioned any run-ins at their three different colleges.

    I guess you need to stop driving a gangsta car, Craig!

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    1. Yeah, that little red Chevy Aveo just screams 'troublemaker', I'm sure. . . Especially with the off-color tail-light tape. You just KNOW that guy is up to no good, right?

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  3. Heh. You did good by holding your peace... and I've experienced the "what I'm thinking" vs "what I actually SAY" bits, often.

    I visited the MSU campus on several occasions back in the day and never had any run-ins with the KK, thanks to The Deity At Hand.

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    1. Oh, there are times when the ability to hold one's tongue is simply priceless. . .

      The MSU campus is, for the most part, quite lovely, and there are lots of fond memories for me there, so it's not like I wouldn't want to drive on-campus anyway, y'know?

      And I'm sure the Corvettes you were drivin' back in the day, drew no attention at all from Law Enforcement, right?

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  4. I feel fortunate that the only KK with whom I have had any opportunity to come in contact were restricted to writing parking tickets.
    Maybe it has something to do with the way Calfornia's codes are written that it requires any other enforcement to be handled by sworn officers?
    In any case my experience with the KK has given me cause to believe it takes a certain type of mentality to perform the tasks involved.
    There has to be an aptitude test that determines a lack of compassion and empathy.

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    1. Well, that or a proclivity for throwing one's weight around. . .

      California has the right idea on this one, methinks. . .

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    2. "California has the right idea on this one..."

      That's one ;-)

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  5. yeah yeah, I've only been pulled over legitimately twice and managed 1 ticket in all these years but have been pulled over numerous times usually resulting in similar conversations, both internal and external. As long as you remain respectful they make for great stories. I hear if you don't it makes for even better stories ;-)

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    1. Alas, I habitually drive too fast to have only paid one ticket in my young life (Yeah, I know; you can save the lecture). . .

      And if by 'better stories' you mean, 'something involving jail time', I got none of those. . .

      ;)

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    2. ah craig, you bad bad boy ;-)

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  6. You are very much the better man than I am, Gunga Din. I not only would have said what you were only thinking, but I probably would have done fishtails in the middle of the quad as payback for my lost time.

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    1. See, YOU were the guy he was really lookin' for. . .

      ;)

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  7. it's likely if i h ad been the driver that my thought life would have leaked through my lips. not likely...pretty much guaranteed.

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    1. Heh-heh. Next time you're in Our Town, I'll let you borrow our car to drive across campus. . .

      ;)

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  8. OMG....the "wrong shade of red"? Loved the post.....laughter makes the heart lighter :-)

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