Awkward times with the Sheriff and a knife.

It's a scarcely known fact that on some older models of cars, the ignition gets so worn down that you can use relatively anything to start it with. Other keys, can openers, and even pocket knives. My car is one such as that, and the pocket knife is my key of choice.

It was a normal, calm Friday morning, a little before 1 A.M. in downtown Tulsa. I was driving to go to my brothers house, from whence we would depart on a road trip to Texas. I glanced suspiciously over my shoulder to see if there was anyone behind me; I haven't had tail lights in my car for months and driving with your rear in the dark can make you nervous. I came to a stoplight and waited patiently for it to give me the green left arrow, when at the same time the Sheriff came to the same light on the opposite side, turning right.

"Come on buddy, turn on red. You can do it. Please don't get behind me."

No such luck. The light turned green. The Sheriff didn't budge. I took a deep breath and slowly accelerated, dreaming in the back of my mind that he wouldn't notice or simply wouldn't care about my blatant tail light violation. I passed under the bridge, and he followed close behind. I turned into the neighborhood I was headed to and he flipped on his lights.  I immediately thought of the joke "it's funny how red, white, and blue stand for freedom until they're flashing behind you." Pulling over, I starting fumbling around in the dark for my licence.

As he approached my vehicle I realized I didn't have a recent verification of insurance. "Fun stuff" I said with a wince. Upon my informing him of this, he went back to his cruiser and found my info on his computer.

"Alright son, I got you all checked out and..." He fell silent, mouth partially agape and eyes fixed on something in front of me. "Why do you have a knife sticking out of your ignition?"

"Uh... I'm just going to put that away." I put both my hands in clear view and slowly closed the knife and put it in my passenger seat. His gaze cut through the darkness and made my heart beat rapidly. I tried to explain that my car could be started with anything, but not without a good deal of stumbling over my own words. He stood there for awhile before handing me a warning for my tail lights.

"Use your keys. Fix your lights. Get your insurance verification."
"Yes sir, absolutely sir."
"Be careful out there."
"Yes sir, absolutely sir. Thank you sir, I will." I was thankful for him telling me to be careful, but  I was also pretty grateful that he didn't arrest me.

So remember kids, next time a cop pulls you over, make sure to at least try to make it look like you aren't driving a stolen car.

Adventures in the QT parking lot

Look, lady in the nasty old SUV, if you're going to sit motionless in the parking lot at Quik Trip for more than a minute, It's more than reasonable for that guy in the small black truck to just kind of ignore you and back out of his spot. He knew you were there. He's not dumb, and he could back up enough to get out of his spot without hitting you. Therefore, I think you were a little out of line when, while he was still around fifteen feet away from you, you started honking and giving him the finger. You then proceeded to honk at him for the next twenty seconds as he left the parking lot, and I could see your lips forming some rather unsavory comments about him.

After he left, you continued to sit in that same spot, not moving. I waited and watched, and I could tell by the look on your face you just absolutely adored being cut off by me when you tried to pull into a spot. After you went into the store, I nonchalantly walked over to your car and made a few adjustments.

I hope you enjoyed the giant "you're a bad human being" I wrote in the dirt of your back window and the surprise Taco Bell Fire Sauce I squirted all over your door handle. If I had vaseline, car chalk, and saran wrap on me, it would have been way better, but sometimes you have to work with what you have.

Also, your left front tire pressure is going to be a little lower than the rest. The pressure gauge I was using to release air from it with left it at around 15 PSI. Not that that's like, a big deal or anything, but if you don't get it fixed, your tire's going to wear out faster, and then one day in the not too distant future, you're going to have really bad traction. So yeah. Take that. Greg: 1 Dumb hateful woman: 0.

Maybe next time you can put down your phone for a second and get out of the middle of the parking lot. If you'd learn how to drive like a normal, considerate human being, I wouldn't have to to this stuff to you. It's a little known fact, lady, but my name means "vigilante". The guy in that truck can sleep easy tonight knowing that the witch of a lady was thoroughly ticked off by the time I was through with her.

Also, if anybody here thinks I was wrong in doing this, there was a group of about four Hispanic gentlemen standing around a truck that had seen the whole ordeal, and they were giving me a thumbs up the whole time. Given the situation, I think I was absolutely justified in what I did. Maybe you should learn to contribute to society, strangely pugnacious woman, instead of being a giant rain cloud of suck on everyone's day.