Probable Cause

Note to self: Replace the burned out headlight in your car. I-m-m-e-d-i-a-t-e-l-y.

Okay, I have to come clean. I've been driving around as a padiddle, or popeye, or whatever you may call a car with one headlight, for a while. Okay, for a few months. And here's the thing, I've had the replacement bulb sitting in my passenger seat for at least two and a half of those months. I know, I know.

I've been a sitting duck. Quack.

On my way to a cast party on Saturday night, I got pulled over. And I knew it was going to happen as soon as the cop changed lanes and got behind me. Only, I didn't know why he was pulling me over, I was only going two miles over the speed limit, had used my signal for everything, and wasn't on the phone or writing checques.

Not only did he pull me over, but he shined that really big spotlight on me. I freaked. And my first instinct was to take my seat belt off? What? Why would I do that? I don't know, but I did. And then I freaked out that he was going to walk up to my car and then slap me with a ticket for not clicking it. I had a fleeting thought of sneakily refastening the belt. But with that tractor beam illuminating my every tic, I kept my fingers crossed that he wouldn't notice.

He approached my window and asked me if I knew why he had pulled me over. Play it cool, I thought.

LMNT: Maybe I was speeding? Even though I knew that wasn't true.

Officer: Because you have a headlight out.

LMNT: Oh yeah, that little thing.

Officer: Oh, you knew about that.

LMNT: Um, yes. I actually have the replacement bulb here.

Officer: Let me see it.

LMNT: Ta-da.

Officer: And how long have you known the headlight has been out?

LMNT: I'd say, about a week. It's not a lie if I have my fingers crossed really tightly, right? They were crossed, remember?

Officer: And where are you coming from, ma'am?

I proceeded to tell him that I am in a musical and had just come from a performance. He then asked me what musical, so I asked quite excitedly, "Into the Woods, do you know it?" Well, he didn't but then he asked me where the performance was, and I told him in the cafeteria where I work, he half chuckled, but it opened a door. I got to joke about how where I work is sometimes like college and there's a club for everything, and here I am in a musical. I think he was using the headlight to see if there was anything else he could get me on, crazy maybe, I was serving him that on a platter. That and it's suburbia, he was bored. I mean for at least three months I've been passing the cops in my neighborhood without a second glance--burned out headlights are small potatoes on my block.

But there wasn't anything else, so he gave me a warning. And I gave him more information about the show and our troupe than he ever wanted to know. Everything short of an invite to this week's performances.