A Great Big Hearty “FUCK YOU” To One Member Of The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department

So there I was.

Zero-Dark-Thirty this morning.

In my big rig on I-70, downtown Indianapolis, raining, dark, 5 lanes heading east.

Doing like Ben Franklin said...minding my business.

I’m in the middle lane going about 57mph in a left-curving portion of the interstate.

The posted speed limit is 55mph.

(I am a rebel.)

There is a six-foot tall concrete dividing wall separating the eastbound side from the westbound side.

Ahead of me in my lane I see a Conway doubles rig putting along at about 50mph.

I kick on my left blinker, check my mirrors and see nothing behind me to my left, and proceed to move around the Conway rig.

About halfway through my maneuver, I see a set of headlights in my mirror suddenly appear around the divider wall in the lane to which I’ve almost completely moved.

I realize there’s no sense in trying the whip back over to the lane I was in, seeing as I would have had to lean into the binders pretty hard on wet pavement to miss Conway…and homie wasn’t about to do that…and the speeding headlights I saw still had one other lane to my left to safely get around me.

But he was closing the gap very quickly.

Too quickly, especially for the conditions.

So I gassed it a little more to get around Conway and create some space between Speed Racer and myself, and as the speeding car now in the far left lane got closer, he kicked on his high beams…and his driver’s side door pillar spotlight!

It was a fucking cop!

IMPD’s finest.

As the cop overtook me and passed me, he adjusted his spotlight so that it constantly shined directly into my driver’s side mirrors.

When he was at a position to where he could no longer shine his spotlight into my mirrors, he adjusted his spotlight again so that it shined directly into my face!

Nice professionalism, Porky.

Motherfucking pig had to be going 65mph in a 55mph zone…at night in the rain…got all road-raged because a mere mundane dared to impede his forward progress, and he decided to play flashlight tag with a fucking semi!

Let me give you a little tip, you worthless fucking scrote.

If you’re in such a big fucking hurry because you are on an emergency run, turn on your god damned disco lights.

I would have seen their reflection long before I saw your headlights, and I would have given you the space you apparently so desperately needed.

You didn’t turn on your disco lights because you were not on an emergency run.

You acted like a complete asshole because:

-The hot light at Krispey Kreme was on.

-It was the end of your shift, and you were in a hurry to get home to shoot your dog and beat your wife.

-You and yours operate by one set of rules…doing whatever the fuck you want…while we peasants must operate by another.

And another thing…if my driving errors were so egregious to the extent that you felt it necessary to fuck with me, why the hell didn’t you pull me over and cite me?

I’ll tell you why.

It’s because you are a lazy fucking coward.

You didn’t want to get out of your car and get wet, but you wanted to show your ass and prove to a hard-working taxpayer just who the fuck was in charge.

Fuck you, pal.

I wasn’t intimidated.

I didn't piss my pants.

I wasn’t scared of you. 

I didn't slow down either. 

I wasn’t impressed, and I showed you who was the bigger man by not retaliating in kind.

I didn't brake check you, swerve at you, flash my high beams at you, or honk my horn at you because I am an adult and a man.

You cannot say the same because you are a punk with a badge. 

I wish you had pulled me over.

I wish you had cited me.

You’d have gotten a fucking earful.

I god damn guarantee it.

And you would have seen me in court also.

That I god damn guarantee as well.

Let me tell you something else, fuck-face.

There’s a whole lotta law-abiding motherfuckers out here who are tired of your shit.

Yet, you and yours cry and bitch about not getting any respect or courtesy.

That shit is a two-way street.

You get what you give.

One of these nights, you may get your tit caught in a wringer, and the only motherfucker out there at that time of night to lend you a hand in a timely manner just might be me or another cat like me.

We might help you.

We might not.

It’s pretty much up to you.

Fuck you anyway.

Cunt.

 
Paul Johnson
-Indianapolis







Wolverines!