I had previously bought a 1961 Rambler American in Denver, CO to teach my wife how to drive. I also went through much effort for the repairs I did to that Rambler. However, once I had that Rambler in good running condition, it was a pretty decent running car. One evening, my wife and I were returning from our friends’ house. We had gone over there for dinner and an evening of games. Since her husband and I had class early the next day, we decided to call it an early evening. Thus, we were headed home. We headed West on Montview Boulevard until we got to Alton Street. We turned left on Alton Street to drive to our house. Right after I turned left onto Alton Street, all hell broke loose. A set of car lights came on in an alley on my right. Out of nowhere, a car pulled out in front of me with tires screeching. The car skidded a few times before straightening out and zooming off. I had to lock up my brakes in a panic stop in order to avoid hitting that car. As it was, I barely missed colliding with the rear end of that car. To make matters worse, the familiar red flash of a bubblegum machine behind me signaled the arrival of the donut patrol right as I screeched to a stop. I thought to myself, “Jesus H. Christ! Is there no justice for the righteous? Why in the hell is the donut patrol pulling me over? The idiot should be going after that guy that I almost plowed into.” I had read the situation all wrong in my panic. The cop swerved around me and stomped on the gas. Then I heard the siren start to blast in addition to the flashing red lights. The car that had pulled out in front of me had finally stopped in front of our townhouse. I parked my car and got my wife and daughter inside the house. The officer must have noticed that I had parked because his partner was talking to the gentlemen (I use the term loosely here) while he came over to speak with me. I said, “Good evening officer. May I help you? May I offer you something to drink?” The officer responded, “Good evening. Something to drink would be nice.” “Well, I have Coke and 7-Up for soft drinks and I have water. What will it be?” “Coke would be nice.” “Here you go. I’m sorry I don’t have any donuts or pastries or anything.” “That’s quite alright. The reason I came over here was that I wanted to check to make sure that you and your family were okay. You are okay, right?” “Yes, officer. My family and I are fine. Although, I must say you really put a fright into me when you came out of nowhere and turned the lights on behind me after that car pulled out in front of me and nearly caused an accident. I really couldn’t understand why you would be pulling me over, when it was the other guy who was at fault.” “Yeah. I can imagine how that must have looked. But we were parked on the other side of the street back there, and we saw him pull out in front of you like that. So, we had to do something. We flipped a U-turn in the middle of the road and went after him. But thinking back on it, I can see how it looked like we were coming up on you like you had done something wrong.” “Well, I guess all’s well that ends well.” “You have a good evening. And thanks for the Coke.” “Why don’t you take one for your partner? Just a minute. I’ll be right back.” I went and got another Coke for his partner. Then, I returned and gave it to him. We bid good evening to each other and I shut the door. It’s funny how a simple misinterpretation of police action can cause total panic in the face of innocence. My journey that evening happened to not be just another pointless exercise in futility.
by 
by 