wifebeatin’
If you’ve never read any of my stories before, you should know that I have had problems with two types of people in the past — rednecks and cops. If you *have* read my stories before, you understand exactly what I’m sayin’. Regardless, now you know.
So, it’s a beautiful morning, and once again I am on my way to school. I’m heading north on highway 170. For those of you who don’t know, hwy170 runs about 8 miles, and is a total death trap. Accidents all the time, insane speeding for half of the highway, and speedtrap city for the other half. Cops everywhere.
It’s about 7:30 in the morning, and I’m in the fast lane in the insane speeding section. Median to the left of me, cars behind me, cars directly to the right of me, and a car in front of me. This is a pretty standard traffic setup, except for the car in front of me. It’s a ninteen-eightysomething Dodge Aries.
Nothing really odd about that at first impression. Upon closer inspection, one can see that there’s a huge crack in the windshield, a busted taillight, and a partially-shattered rear window. There’s a small child in the backseat, a woman in the front-passenger seat, and a man with a big nasty mullet driving.
Again, nothing REALLY out of the ordinary here. We’re driving along, doing a nice 80 miles per hour, and I notice that every few seconds, he swerves horrible out of his lane, and then straightens out. I back off him a safe distance, and observe more. Finally, I see whats *really* going on.
He’s pissed off. He’s violently waving his free arm around in the car, and it’s pretty clear that he’s screaming about something. Every few seconds, he reaches over, smacks the shit out of his wife, loses control of his car, and straightens out. If someone told me that, at 7:30 am, this man were three sheets to the wind, I would have believed it.
So, it’s probably best that I get as far away as humanly possible from this crazy fuck, right? Right. I make a little room and move over a lane to the right. Doesn’t help me any — he’s still far too close to me for me to feel comfortable. The far right lane is open, and there’s not really much traffic there. Being all smooth, I hop over to the far right, kick the shit wagon up to about 95, and pass a whole shitload of people. I’m cruisin’ right along, when I see a familiar car in the middle lane… As I pass it, I recognize it.
I was about to pass a cop, at 95 miles an hour, on the right. (important note: woman cop) Shit. I slam my breaks, but it’s too late. I’ve already been spotted. I look up towards this cop, and we make eye contact. I see her mouth the words “pull over” and point towards the shoulder of the highway. Shit. As I’m looking at this cop, I see something interesting. It’s our drunken mullet friend driving the Aries.
As I’m looking at him, he’s got that look like he’s about to smack his wife up again — that “confederate flag” kinda look. I look at the *female* cop, point to the asshole with the mullet, and mouth the words “Look that way!”
And right as she looks at him, he beats his wife’s ass yet again. She slams her breaks, hits her lights and siren, and pulls him over.
Thank God for little favors. What happened next, I don’t really know — nor do I care to. All I know is that I high-tailed it out of there. I think it’s safe to expect that he was arrested on counts of assault, domestic abuse, reckless driving, and hopefully a DWI.
We could only be so lucky.
