I made the mistake of dating a cop once.
I knew, from trying to get police reports out of him over the phone that he was dumber than a box of hammers but when he walked into my office, all Dwayne Johnson arms and khaki’d pecs I was already living my own NYPD Blues fantasy in my head about cops and reporters.
I swear I knew better but I just kept talking to his chest and hoping the rest of him would keep quiet. At some stage my eyes glazed over and I just ignored what he was saying and imagined stripping him down to his gunbelt on the desk and eating him from the crewcut to his steel caps.
I tried to be discreet but he was so keen to piss all over his territory - kissing me goodbye in front of my staff, picking me up from my pub in the paddy wagon.
The first time he offered me a ride in his police wagon I said ‘wow, that’ll be the first time I’ve been in the FRONT of a paddy wagon’ and he didn’t laugh. Just raised a speculative eyebrow at me and went back to his office and did a licence check on me.
Now, every time he stops me on the highway to breathtest me and asks ‘would you blow in this’ I want to answer ‘haven’t we been here before’.
I’ve blown 0.00 so many times now he just leans in the window and says ‘oh, it’s you – move along’.
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