Sometimes, I deliberately play the part I proudly call “The International Ditz.” It may be because I aspire to be an actress in my next life, or in this case, to weasel my way out of a speeding ticket.
Red, blue, and white lights blind me. My friend interrupts my conversation and says, “Yo Erzulie, pull over, it’s a cop.” So I do. I observe the policeman walking toward me with his beaming flashlight. I lower my window and look up at him, cocking my head slightly to one side and giving him a confused, doe-eyed gaze.
“Miss, was there any reason you were sailing down an inner street at 60 miles per hour?” I study his face, part my lips, and consciously brush away any hint of an American accent, “Ummm…not really.”
My dutiful, slightly flustered friend hands over my registration from the glove compartment and I calmly give the document to the cop, along with my license. I continue eyeing him as he studies the paperwork.
“Were you in a hurry to get anywhere?” He looks up from my records. Our eyes lock. I knew right then I was off the hook, “I’m going back home,” I cooed while purposely stressing on my forced accent.
He cleared his voice and mumbled, “Well, next time slow down. Have a good night Erzulie.”
“Oh thank you officer!” I closed my window, turned to my friend – whose jaw hit the floor- and raised a mocking eyebrow along with a smirk.
I think my buddy said “YOU LUCKY ASS!” a million times that day.
Sometimes, being a girl pays off. In this case, it got me out of a $500 ticket. Ah well, c’est la vie boys ;)
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at 2:07 PM