Thursday, December 18, 2008

The B-word

To those of you who seemed surprised that I once called a police officer a bitch, well, here’s the story. . .

Back in 1987, I was involved in a car accident. I was visiting my aunt in a suburb of Dallas when it occurred. I was traveling in a line of cars through an intersection (the light was green), a 17 year-old kid suddenly turned left in front of me and I broadsided him.

No one was hurt, but there was significant damage to his car and mine.

The police officer ticketed the kid for making an illegal left turn and told me I could obtain his report at the police station.

Fine. I didn’t call him a bitch.

That night, the kid’s father called me at my aunt’s house. It turned out that he was an employee of the sheriffs department or something like that.

Anyway, he asked if I’d be willing to have my insurance company pay for their damages and have their insurance pay for my damages since their damages were much more significant and their insurance would go way up if it looked like the kid was at fault.

I wasn’t willing to do that and he got mad.

Fine. I didn’t call him a bitch.

The next day, I went to the police station and, miraculously, the report indicated that both parties were at fault (even though I was not issued a citation). I asked the nice lady if I could have documentation of the police officer’s citation that he had given to the kid. She said there was no way I could. And she said it very rudely to me.

I was feeling really jerked around by that pont.

That was not fine.

As I walked out the door, I said “Bitch!” and left.

When I got back to my aunt’s house, the phone was ringing. It was the chief of police and he was mad. It turns out that the nice lady behind the counter was a police officer and he was rather displeased that I called one of his officers a bitch.

He demanded that I return, apologize to his officer, or else he would send an officer over to arrest me.

I was thinking that there was probably nothing in the penal code that made it an offense to call a police officer a name. I’m sure they get called names all the time, not that that’s appropriate or anything. Still, I’d always made it a point to avoid having a criminal record so I went back.

I apologized. I told the officer that it wasn’t like me to call anyone a name, I could imagine how that must have felt, etc. (I basically laid the bullshit on really thick – I am good at that).

It was really humiliating, nonetheless, and I was even more sure that they couldn’t have arrested me for it. I also felt jerked around that the police record of the accident had been changed. And besides, she had really been rude to me in the first place.

She was pleasant enough and thanked me for apologizing.

As I walked out the door, I made sure no one could hear me . . .

I said “Bitch!” and left.


At 3:50 PM , Blogger QuotidianEditorialist said...

Hilarious story. You were justified to say what you did. Glad that you avoided a record.

At 5:28 PM , Blogger Unknown said...

After the way you were treated, I'd say you were entitled.

At 9:09 PM , Blogger Barb said...

The whole thing sounds fishy to me, but I completely understand why you would apologize. Right or not, you'd be the one in hot water. BTW ~ I left you a little something on my blog!

At 6:16 PM , Blogger Miss Healthypants said...

Heh heh heh heh! :)


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