When a Cop Stops You

I don't know why, but every time I see the police, I get nervous. I shouldn't get nervous, because I know they're there to protect me, to protect all of us, and I am a good citizen. Maybe I drive a little fast, but I'm not the fastest car on the road. So I think I get nervous because I'm afraid that I'll be stopped for one tiny thing and then I'll stick my foot in my mouth, talk myself into trouble.

I have a friend who is very quiet, polite – a really good person. One day she was driving her car and she got pulled over by a cop.

He said, "Smoke's coming out of the back of your car." She had just taken her car in for a smog test the day before and it was fine, she takes care of her car, so she couldn't believe it. But instead of saying, "Oh, thank you, Officer, for letting me know and I'll go take care of it right away," instead of being her good, wise, sensible self, she says, "Well I just took it in yesterday and it was fine, and so what are you saying, are you saying there's a law against it?" Jeez-E-jeez – Is there a law against it? So of course he found one. This is not the way to deal with the police.

When I was a kid, I was very good, followed all the rules. And yet – every time I did something bad – BOOM! I'd get caught. Pick my nose – boom! Sneak an extra cookie – boom! Break a promise, tell a secret – well, you get the idea. But since my face would always turn bright red, the only thing to do was apologize. No use to struggle, to make up stories, to say I didn't do it. Just tell the truth. And I'm the same way, now. I couldn't lie to save my life. I could lie, but no one would ever believe me. So if a cop stopped me, I could try faking some kind of medical emergency and say, "I'm speeding to a hospital." But he wouldn't believe it. And then I'd be in really big trouble. Just tell the truth.

Next time you get caught – by a cop, by the principal, by your teacher, by your mom – maybe you'll remember this poem, "When a Cop Stops You," from Behind the Wheel: Poems about Driving.

When a Cop Stops You

When a cop stops you,
what can you do?

Grab your leg and moan in pain?

I would if I could
but I know I would laugh.
So I sit there, waiting,
shrinking fast,
humble, quiet.
Stupid. Sweet.

When the cop walks up,
I stare at his feet.
I give him my papers.
I listen. I nod.
When he lets me go –

Thank God.

– from Behind the Wheel: Poems about Driving