Posted in nonsense

Don’t talk to the police


My days are extremely busy because it is back to school time, I am working on finalizing my final paper for my state and government course on the European Union, getting my little brother ready for college, dealing with a ten year old’s broken leg, a suddenly terrible toddler, annoying tenants and bosses, an additional person to work for at the office, and the rest of the things that make my life interesting.

Like yesterday, I get pulled over by a bully of a copy who slapped me with a $170.00 ticket. Twelve years and never getting a ticket and my record is ruined. Should I blame the cop or my inability to remember to signal two minutes before I change lanes. I was more than fifty feet ahead of the jerk in blue and he insisted I nearly crashed into him. He was trying to start an argument with me. What the heck is wrong with our police when they want to start a fight over a ticket they are going to give you anyway? I just politely answered his questions. Then, he went into interrogation mode. Who was in the car with me? Where was I coming from? Where was I going? I felt like saying, “Dude, my husband doesn’t dare ask these questions.” Instead, I smiled pleasantly, gave very short answers, and told him to have nice evening after he slapped with the ticket. Inside, however, I was raging mad and the incredible hulk was dying to come out. I am also surprised that he did not ask to search my vehicle.

Since being in the legal field, I have learned many wonderful things, but the most important I have learned is to NEVER talk to cops. Think about it: they cannot misconstrue something if you say nothing. The golden rule for dealing with the police: keep your mouth shut. In my very first course in my paralegal program, the instructor gave us the first and best piece of advice: don’t talk to the police. Say as little as possible. Answer yes and no and don’t give out too much information. The simplicity of silence is golden when the cops are around. Point, shake your head and answer yes and no – simple advice. A law student in Michigan posted about a traffic stop experience and it is a must read.

Remember that song from Superbad called Pork and Beef, by the Coup where the police offer is dancing to these lyrics: “Don’t trust the police, no justice no peace, they got me face down in the middle of the street.” Great advice if you ask me.

http://www.youtube.com/v/WclhcfUEDrM&hl=en_US&fs=1?color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999

http://www.youtube.com/v/ECJ4T2eMLUg&hl=en_US&fs=1

So, tip for the day: Don’t talk to the boys in blue and if you have to, answer yes, no and with very short answers. I always have nightmares of being the mom who gets arrested for not keeping my mouth shut so I keep my mouth shut. I am out a $170.00 because of the police; therefore; I can’t trust anyone who literally robs me.

What are your police mishap stories? Do tell.

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5 thoughts on “Don’t talk to the police

  1. So sorry you had to go through all that, Lana. He searched your car?!? Because you didn't signal a lane change?! Sheesh.I'll remember your good, sound advice. And I hope your weekend will be a peaceful one, with a serene toddler, a son who crutches around and keeps himself productively entertained, a husband who offers help without being asked, pleasant, comfortable weather and little or no pain from FMS or RA. Yes, I'm a total goofball. But I mean every word. Best to you, m'dear.

  2. Our nice, sweet Lana is deep down a no drivin', no room for you, lane changing, rageaholic? By the way, if they had Rageaholics Anonymous, I guess the initials would be RA?Some days you're the bug, some days you're the windshield.Just kidding, sorry you had to run into Super Trooper. Good thing he didn't search your vehicle, what if he would have found a Humira kit with a syringe? He'd probably never believed the RA story would he.

  3. Dee, I think it is the maroon Subaru. Twelve years of a perfect record. Oh well – you win some, you lose some. I won’t lose sleep over it but I hope Officer Super Trooper does. No search Wren but he took his flashlight and was peering in the windows like some weirdo. He was in full interrogation mode. You had me laughing so hard with that second part. I wasn’t sure whose life you were talking about.Terry, I was laughing so hard when I read your comment that my toddler starting laughing too. I felt like the bug on the windshield that day. I am out $170.00 and Super Trooper meets his quota – no fairness there. I leave my Humira in the fridge so no chance of it being in my car. In 2004, I was driving from PA to NYC. I was pulled over at a checkpoint right at the Verrazano Bridge (where NJ and NY meet), and I had a pair of scissors in my glove compartment. I was with my ten year old who was only four at the time. Needless to say, I was out of a pair of scissors and got the interrogation of a lifetime. And the explanation that I used the scissors to clean up the grass and weeds at my Dad’s grave only got me mixed looks. For that reason alone, I don’t trust the police. A mom driving a mom mobile seriously being pulled over at a checkpoint in NYC? What has this world come to?

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