A while back, I’m heading home from class after bombing a test, (it was one of those tests where the professor tells you what will be on the test, so you study that stuff and then you take the test and none of that stuff is on the test) and I’m not in a good mood. Everything is pissing me off.
As I drive along the road, clenching my steering wheel angrily, a guy on a motorcycle speeds up right next to me and cuts me off, missing my car by what seems like inches. He then continues to fly down the road before disappearing around a corner, his engine screaming.
Really? Nice, jackhole.
I turn my stereo up and continue on, just wanting to get home. I am watching my speed, as I had just gotten a parking ticket the day before, and couldn’t afford to get another citation. Suddenly, my mom calls, so I answer and put her on speaker phone. I hold the phone near my face and tell her all about how I aced my test.
I near the corner where I last saw the motorcyclist. I make the turn and come to a halt at the stoplight, a smile quickly spreading across my face.
There was the motorcyclist, no longer the badass he thought he was, standing on the side of the road with two police officers, looking like he was on the verge of tears. I immediately bust up laughing. My car is stopped just a few feet from him and I look on in delight, pointing and laughing as I explain the situation to my mom. This is just what I had needed.
As my laughter and joy dies down, I make eye contact with one of the police officers. He looks back at me with what I can only explain as disbelief, as if I had just pulled an open beer from my cup holder and offered it to him.
I’m confused now, and become even more confused as he begins walking towards my car.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He comes up to my window and knocks on it. Still on the phone with my mom and still holding the device near my face, I roll it down.
“What are you doing, sir?” he asks.
I look back at him like an idiot and say, “Uhh, talking to my mom?”
My mom is now blabbering through the phone frantically asking what’s going on.
“Hang your phone up, sir,” the officer says, his voice now stern.
I hang up and say even more stupidly, “But it was on speaker…” my voice trailing off as I start realizing my mistake.
“When you are talking on the phone while driving, it has to be hands free, sir. I’m going to have to write you a ticket.”
I let out a sigh and hang my head. For whatever reason, maybe it’s the universe evening itself out, maybe it’s God rubbing my face in my own arrogance, all I can do in my moment of defeat is helplessly turn my head to the motorcyclist.
He is sitting on his freshly started bike, pointing at me and dying of laughter.
Touché, karma. Touché.