It was about 1:30 A.M. I was driving down a side road coming up to a stop sign. I flick on my left blinker and make the turn on to the highway. It seemed like I was the only car on the road.

Then I see headlights behind me and the car is fast approaching. I weave into the far right lane to let this guy go by but instead of speeding past, he mimicked me and got back behind me.

I was about to break check the asshole to get him to back off. I’m glad I didn’t because a second later I’m blinded by a spot light and I see the dreaded blue & red flashes of a police cruiser.

This was my thought process: Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUUUCCCKK!

I pull over.

I had about 10 seconds to think before the cop walked up to the window. I could have wound it down but I was playing it cool. I waited until he tapped on the glass.

The window’s down and I’m look at him and he’s blinding me with his flashlight.

I raise my eyebrows and nod. It’s the universal sign for ‘wazzup’.

Mt heart is pounding. I still wasn’t sure how to handle this….situation. A second passes. For some reason I think of the movie ‘Clerks’

“Where you coming from tonight?” He asked.

Hmmm, I think.

I look over my shoulder and give a quick head nudge in the direction I was driving from. This could be called the universal sign for ‘Back that way dumb ass’

“Sir?”

You just can’t trust the police these days. Anyone can end up tazered, maced, or dead. So I take note of his posture. Even though I can’t see with the light in my eyes I am well aware that his other hand is on the butt of his gun.

I gotta say, It was a nice night out, but not nice enough where as if I got shot it wouldn’t ruin it, so I didn’t want to make any sudden movements.

I over exaggerate a frown.

“Sir did you hear what I asked you?”

I nod ‘yes’. I then give him my impatient look followed up with me nodding to the empty seat next to me a few times.

I’m sure he was confused but finally the light moved from my face to the passenger seat. I risked moving my hand off the wheel, but slowly, very slowly, I made a writing in the air motion with my hand, and then I cautiously reached across the center console towards that seat.

I just knew he must be getting tensed but I kept reaching.

Hearing no gunshot, which was a good sign, I lifted up my jacket that I had on the seat, again, very slowly. Underneath was a notepad I had sitting there for when I get a good idea, I can record it.

Once he noticed I wasn’t going for a weapon I think he relaxed.

“Sir?”

I quickly jotted a note and showed him. ‘Sorry about that.’

“Are you… deaf?” I shook my head no.

‘Mute. I hear you fine.’

“I see… O.K. Then. We’ll take this slow. Where ya headed?”

‘Home’ I wrote.

“Do you know why I stopped you.”

‘Not a clue officer.’

“You didn’t come to a complete stop at the sign before you pulled out onto the highway. I know it’s late but if anyone out here has been drinking, they could easily cause an accident.”

‘I didn’t realize. My apologies.’

“I’ll let you go with a warning but be more careful.”

‘Thank you, Sir.’

“Alright, well you have a good night.”

He walked back to his car. I hear his door slam as he got in.

‘Holly Shit’, I think.

I fumble around with stuff in the car buying time. I don’t know why. I should have just drove off.

The flashing red and blue lights cut off.

I’m pretending to write something on my pad just to buy a few more seconds, I put my coat on.

Finally the cop decides I’m not ready to pull off yet, so he does what I wanted him to do and pulls past me.

I smile and I wave as he drives by and starts to accelerate away.

That’s what I was waiting for. I am such an asshole sometime, but I can’t help myself…

I stuck my head out the window and shouted “You have a great nice too, Officer!”

His break lights came on for a split second then went back off. I imagine he thought he was hearing things because he didn’t slam on his breaks and come back to kick my ass. I am laughing hysterically as I put my car into drive and pull away….

If I am willing to pretend to be a hot twenty something girl looking for sex online, or a recruiter looking to higher someone for a dream job, or a dozen other shady things to make money, you better believe that if I’ve had a night full of drinking, got pulled over by a cop, and I knew that he would have smelled the wonderfully great Jack Daniels on my breath and would have, without a doubt, locked my drunk ass up… well then, my friends, I can certainly pretend to be a mute.

Yeah, like I said, I’m an asshole, but I’m a black hat marketing asshole and that’s what counts most.

//Hope you guys like it. Inspired by having a cop pull behind me tonight and I was thinking: ‘Fuck, what do I do if this guy pulls me over.’ //

A ? (Cauls) = One level of abstraction away from the reality of a situation.

?0 = I was making a cake but I ran out of sugar. I went next door to ask if I could borrow a cup to finish making the cake.

?1 = I was making a cake but ran out of cocaine. I went next door to ask if a cup of cocaine could make a mess on a chocolate bed.

?2 = I was making drawings of a cake when I woke up I was in the doors. We played a cover song with a guitar that oddly enough looked just like a cake.

?3 = I was mating with a chocolate cake because I am not racist, but the icing broke! Next door fell on me and now I need to pay child support for illegitimate cupcakes that snort cocoa under my bed!

?4 = I was thrown at a cake who insisted I eat macaroni and mustard. The not coolness of a door frame with no handle is like farting in a barn fool of asses. The kind the goatse not the kind who ride columbians for coffee beans on mars. Now they are watching me and it’s red because I spit salvia. We’ve all fallen though the bed one time but not frank.

?5 = I was made out of cake. But sugar is a platypus dead up store that baked my carbon based grape soda with no eyes. Inside some speak durrr-durrr-durrrf and it turned out all was a secret deep fried crackerjack. And that is why Dr. Phil said. In future-spec, I forgot to not understand and my car was training me to be wrong. Simpleton. When I ate a cup it was all good. Which everybody knows there really is no noes that know how. But only in Baltimore.

?6 = I pissed on a cake which is the intergalactic sign for beer. The peed on cake got pissed off which divided my brain by zero resulting in Rick Astley Giving me up and letting me down and messing around with another 4th dimensional pepper stake from a town called bel air. I whistled at a cab and that hurt me and made me cry like a little but not too much. The tears were sucked in a black hole causing a rift that ultimately destroyed my whole entire lego castle. Seriously. Then the nothing ate everything but my dragon dog which named the anti-christ Frederico Nads. I asked about it and the cake let me know it was Swahili for John. Cakes have a tendency to lie though so I was All put right when it turned out everything was made of chocolate inside a vast light-years wide turtle but the calculations only work in day light saving time if you are calling after 9 pm to save minutes from drowning. And the cake put me away then the sugar came, the sugar made me next door, and it smeared me on a bed. I know, I felt the same way.

? : The Original 6 Cuils