This is getting a little ridiculous

We've all had a good laugh at how lucky I am. How everything goes my way. Well, things are almost getting a little out of hand. It is unbelievable the way the universe goes out of its way to cater to me.

Here we go.

So, Lisa and I went out to the South Side, only to discover that she had either lost her wallet or left it at home. Either way, our chances of finding a bar we could get into without I.D. on a weekend evening were slim at best, but I decided to search for a parking spot and try and hit up Bar 11, a dive off the main drag with a really strange crowd and stranger practices.

We must have been circling the same few blocks for a half hour, narrow, one way back allies lined on both sides with parked cars. Coming up to the bar--yet again--a car was paralleling (lucky dog) to my left, and doing a piss poor job of it, I might add. I compensated (like you do) for her maneuvering by sliding a little more to my right. Well, too far apparently, because my mirror clipped that of a parked vehicle. No big deal, actually, because it's 2008 and cars' mirrors give for just that purpose. So, no damage was done to either car, but it made a really loud noise.

There was a stop sign only two cars past the one I hit, and I stopped, only to find a pedestrian cop strolling up to my car.

Shit. You have got to be kidding me. I am so tried of police officers at this point I was ready to get out of the car, leave it running, and bolt for the hills, just to avoid talking to the guy.

So, he says to me, "What'd you hit?"

"I hit something?" Playing dumb has gotten me everywhere in these situations. And I am not too proud to get out of a ticket, a D.U.I., or an insurance claim.

I looked over at my mirror, which had closed in towards the car, and gasped as if I had noticed it for the first time.

"Stay there," he said, and went to inspect the "damage" on the other car.

He had my pull over, took my license, told me it was no biggie, and sent me on my merry way. But first, I thought, hey, he's not being a prick; I'll ask him:

"Do they card to get into this bar?"

"Yeah, they do. Why?"

"She forgot her license."

"How old are you?" he turned his attention to Lisa.

"23."

"Well," said the officer who had just had me pull over because I hit a parked car, "I'll just say I checked your I.D. You can go in."

So, let me get this straight. The only reason Lisa and I were able to go out that night was because I clipped a car and a cop was there to witness it. Can anybody explain my life to me?

Yeah, I didn't think so.



The bar was cool, btw. We had a great night.