Good triumphs over evil once again in this installment of, "Al versus the PoPo!"
I got off the Queensway, ending up at a light behind a patrol car. I change lanes to the right twice and put a few cars between us. As we pull away from the next intersection, he slows down and sits in my blind spot. I pass a gas station selling for 67.8 and keep going. He is still watching me and moves over one lane to follow. I pull into the next gas station. 68.2. I drive out the back, cutting through a parking lot and watch the cruiser drive through the gas station but pull back onto the road. I get back onto the road on his right to watch him go straight through the intersection.
This is boring me straight past Tear-town and into red-faced, post-sob whimpering.
I went back to get cheap gas and a candy bar and he ended up stopping a grey-haired baby-boomer in a Volvo wagon. I drove past the ticket party, laughing all the way, Ha Ha Ha.
I seem to be accumulating plaque a lot faster these days. Could it be my diet? I haven't been eating nearly as much or as healthily as I have in the past. Could it be that I floss as often as I change a roll of toilet paper... or less? Maybe it's the Gnomes. Or the Knowmes.
"I would like eating Wunderbar right now."
"Me too. That IS why I'm buying one."
If there is one thing that really gets my goat, it's when people tell me their preferences are better for me than my own.
If I want to listen to sad-bastard music when I'm feeling shitty, that's what the fuck I'm going to do! If I want to run a sharp knife lightly over my arms, who are you to insist I get completely drunk because it makes you feel better when you're depressed? If I ask you for some help or your thoughts, feel free to suggest anything you want. Just don't order me to do things your way. Please.
I think I'm too jaded to be in your relationship.
Forgive me, that is not what I meant.
"You know what this is? This is the world's tiniest Fidel playing for you."