Last night I’m driving home when a Tucson cop welds himself to my rear bumper and blinds me by shining his spotlight right into my rear view mirror. He holds the light there for several seconds, then speeds past me on the right. I’m trying to think what I’ve done wrong but coming up blank – I was maybe five over the speed limit, but, hey, so was everyone else. Did I cut in front of the cop? I don’t think so. Are my lights on? Check. What’s going on?
Now the cop car’s ahead of me but there’s a pickup truck between us. Something tells me it would be smart to note the number on the patrol car, but the only way I can get close enough is to pass the truck that’s between us. I’d have to speed to do it, and I know that’s a dumb idea, so I stay at the limit. As does the cop now, as does everyone else. All I can tell from this distance is that it’s a Tucson Police Department patrol car.
Now the cop gets in the far left lane. I stay in the right lane because I’m turning right at the next intersection. Still can’t get close enough to read his number, and by now I’ve given up on the idea. But as soon as I put on my turn signal the cop swerves across two lanes and turns right. Now I know something’s up, and I really want to get his number, because I’m gonna call 911 and report his unprofessional ass. But he speeds up and I don’t dare close the gap. Then the stoplight ahead turns red. Now’s my chance. He’s in the left lane, I’m in the right lane. I’ll be able to get alongside him at the light and sneek a peek at his number.
Can you guess what he does next?
You guessed, didn’t you? Right . . . without even slowing down, he swings into the left turn lane and runs the light! He literally runs a red to keep me from reading the number on his car! And with that, he’s gone.
It occurs to me, later that night, that my brush with Tucson’s finest occurred near the hospital where I work, which is in South Tucson. That part of town, as any Tucsonan will tell you, is on the wrong side of the tracks. It’s Hispanic, it’s poor, it’s rife with crime. People who live – and drive – in South Tucson probably experience this sort of police intimidation every day.
I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t confront that cop. He might’ve shot me.
Because in the dark, in the wrong part of town, we all look like perps to the cops.