Good cop
August 19, 2008 by Chris
Every once in a while, you’re missing the bad cop.
Last Thursday, a few friends and I decided to defy our advancing age and go out dancing on a school night. (Okay, it was really a work night, but that doesn’t sound as fun.)
There’s this great little place in New Paltz called Cabaloosa (or “Cabs,” which has a terrible web site, but I try not to hold it against them) that does an 80s night every Thursday. The place is so New Paltz … it’s a crunchy, friendly, eclectic blend of every type of person. The straights and the gays coexist peacefully … even happily … and I really enjoy it.
I volunteered to drive us over there, and so Lee, Jimmy, Scotty, Mike and I piled into the Civic and made our way over the Mid Hudson Bridge. (Luis and Peter would be meeting us there.)
As we’re heading up 9W, Jimmy commented how dim my headlights seemed. True to form, I told him (honestly) that I hadn’t noticed, and that if there was anything wrong with my headlights, Luis should have already taken care of it! Jimmy mentioned that we should take a look once we made it to New Paltz, reminding me that getting a ticket for having a headlight out wouldn’t be a very good way to start our evening!
Cruising down 299 through Lloyd, I made a conscious effort to keep my speed well within the limits. It was nearly 11 PM on a Thursday night, and anyone who drives 299 with any regularity knows that the state troopers are everywhere. It’s been a long time since I got a speeding ticket, and I’d like to keep it that way.
By now, you know what’s coming.
Yup, I see them in the rear view mirror. The flashing lights. But they can’t be for me … there are plenty of other cars, and after all: I’m not speeding. I slide over into the shoulder to let the cruiser pass … and it pulls over right behind me.
Trooper Nielsen was really nice. For once in my life, I told him truthfully that I didn’t know why he’d pulled me over. He advised me of the fact that (thanks Jimmy) my driver’s side headlight was out.
The usual questions ensued. “Where are you going?” “Have you had anything to drink tonight?” And then he asked to see my license, registration and insurance. Uh oh. Because we were going out, I didn’t bring my wallet … and so although I had my license, my registration and insurance cards were safely, uselessly at home on my desk.
Now I’m thinking to myself, “Great. Not one ticket for the headlight, but three tickets for the headlight, no proof of registration, and no proof of insurance.”
The trooper ran my license, came back, and told me to get my headlight changed, drive safely, and have fun at Cabs.
Good cop. Lucky Chris.
Mike
You completely forgot the (somewhat creepy) pickup line “Officer Nielson” used on you:
Scene: 5 gay men in a small car in the middle-of-nowhere New York.
Chris: “We’re going to Cabaloosa in New Paltz, sir.
Officer: “Oh yeah? (intrigue piqued) Whats going on at Cab’s tonight?
Chris (unsure of whether this is a come-on or an interrogation): umm… some drinks and dancing?
Officer: (pause waiting for invite) Ok.
Other Mike
Just before Christmas one year, I once got pulled over on 299 by a trooper for going 10 miles over the speed limit. I told him that I was heading home after visiting a friend in the Hudson Valley (I had retained a NJ license while living in Poughkeepsie, so the story was plausible). In place of a speeding ticket, he gave me a BS ticket for a “partially obscured license plate” to cut me a break (it was a $20 fine). Before he handed the ticket to me, though, he stuck his head in the car and said, “I’ll tell you somethin’, though. If I see you in that courthouse fightin’ this ticket, rest assured: Ahm gon’ whup yo’ ass.” He paused momentarily before repeating–each syllable enunciated–the fact that my ass was gearing up for a whupping. Good times, as they say.