Dear Officer Krupke,

Sometimes if something irritates me (hey, it's a family show, I'll keep the language decent for you)I do the counting to ten thing to see if I can find it funny. OR, if it's really bad and I'm REALLY irate, I try and shelve it for awhile - I figure the less I dwell on it the better. HOWEVER, if ignoring it doesn't work, I have to move to Plan B: complaining as loudly and as often as I can until I'm sick of hearing myself talk. Well, it's been a week since the authorities started their manhunt for me, dangerous criminal that I am, and I'm still a little ticked off.
So, first and foremost I'd like to thank the lovely officers (both of them) that decided to waste my time last Saturday (twice) for NO REASON AT ALL. Secondly, I would like to make the following disclaimer: IF I were doing something illegal, like speeding down the street I live on at three times the speed limit like so many other people do (dang kids. . .;), I would still be bothered at being the one to get caught and get ticketed. I would, however, understand why I was pulled over, whine about it and then be done with it - it would probably fall into the 'issues on the shelf' category for awhile. Lastly, I love you police officers, please don't pull me over again.
Early Saturday morning a sheriff truck pulled onto the old highway behind me. I checked my speed - fine - and continued along. At the next stoplight I signaled, and moved into the turn lane, so did the sheriff. Still, I'm thinking, 'I'm not doing anything wrong, no big deal'. Until we got about a half mile further down the road and the circus lights came on. When I asked the Big Lady-Sheriff why she had pulled me over (as I handed her my license and registration), she told me that my registration was expired.
W - Uh, no it's not. My little sticker's back there. (gesturing madly at the rear license plate.)
BL-S - Well, we've had some problems with counterfeit stickers, and the computer shows yours is expired.

I have to interrupt here for a minute - COUNTERFEIT REGISTRATION STICKERS - REALLY? Come on. Now that's some racket. Hey, I've got a printer, why didn't I think of that? In fact, now that I am thinking of it, I'm pretty sure I DID see a "Car Registration" sticker pack during my last Staples foray. It was right between the "Green Cards" and the "Driver's Licenses" packs.

W - This is the paper it came on. . .
BL-S - Yeah, let me just go check it out for you.
W - O-kay.(yes, please, if you could do that for me, that would be great because I've been worried that even though I stood in line - okay, Tyler stood in line - at the DMV and paid for the registration, and they gave us the little sticker and everything. . .)

So when Big Lady-Sheriff came back she said that the computer really did show that I wasn't registered (Seems like she already told me that.) and that it was a GOOD thing I had my proof of registration with me. Hmm, weird. So now's the point where I think the BL-S should have at the very least said, "sorry for the inconvenience". No such luck. She just told me to hold on to my registration and she was off. Apparently she was late for pulling someone else over for no reason. Busy, busy.

It would have been enough to irritate me that some random sheriff was running my plates just to keep herself awake, but wait, there's more. Remember how I said 'both of them'? No, BL-S didn't have a friend standing by watching. I went to work, had a lovely day, and got pulled over again on the way back. Seriously. Not only did I get pulled over, but this guy would have made a really bad tail-er in a spy movie look like a pro. He came barreling out into the right-hand lane from a little side road about two blocks before I moved into the turn lane (yes, from the left-lane. I'm law-abiding like that.), and followed me into the left turn lane from two cars back in the right-hand lane. (um, citizen's arrest?) The thought, "There is seriously no way!" had just crossed my mind, and maybe my lips, when he flipped on his lights. Now, if Big Lady-Sheriff had stood next to this Skinny Cop, I swear it would have looked a bit like Andre the Giant standing next to 'Wesley' in 'The Princess Bride'. I mean, I'm a bit of a runt, and I could have taken him.

Same reason for being pulled over. (Your license plate is really dirty, the '8' looked like a '9', so I ran it and . . .) My conversation with Skinny Cop was only unique from the one earlier that day (aside from when he started questioning why I had a temporary license - I felt like telling him he was lucky I had a valid one at all or he might have had to call for backup to take me in.) in that he started talking into the radio on his shoulder like there was someone talking back to him (uh, yeah, 10-4, in pursuit, over and out) when I asked why he had run my plates in the first place. It was good thing he pulled me over a block away from Juice -n- Java so I could immediately quench my fury with my long-time friend - okay obsession - an iced Cappuccino flavored Chocolate. (Yum, we will revisit this subject later.)

No, I didn't get a ticket either time - although Skinny Cop did say he would have HAD to if I hadn't had my proof of registration - but I'm still bugged. Why pick on me? Back in the day (ie: college)I played on a girls intramural flag football team. At the first game my brother, Rob, came to he told me that I was scary - that when I was running down the field (ready to score, no doubt. . . heh, heh) I looked like I was ready to kill someone. "Those girls are scared of you, I think I'm scared of you". Later on he told me that I had the same expression on my face when I drive. A.) This same brother also convinced my little brother that my dad speared a wild havelina (that's 'wild pig' to you. . . if I spelled it right) with a walking stick. . . he is not to be trusted in such matters. B.) That's ridiculous - I am sweet and innocent. C.) This is the ONLY reason I can think of for the Police force to come after me: I am a crazy, harried, housewife and I must, at all costs, be stopped.