A Nail-Biting Conclusion

, , , , | Legal | August 31, 2019

(As I’m sitting bored at an intersection with a long red light, a police officer appears and knocks on my driver’s side window. I jump and roll down my window.)

Officer: “Ma’am, you can’t be texting and driving.”

(He’s pulling out his ticket book but faltering as there’s nothing in my hands and, as he obviously startled me, there was no way I could have hidden my phone without him seeing.)

Officer: “What were you doing?”

Me: “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

Officer: “Where’s your phone?”

Me: “I don’t know. I think it’s in my purse behind my seat.”

(The light’s green but I can’t go and the cars behind me are trapped because of the parked cars beside me.)

Officer: “What were you doing?”

Me: “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Officer: “What were you looking at?”

Me: *pauses to think* “My nails. I bite my nails.”

(Seems I was looking down at my fingers, absently deciding which one to munch on, and it looked like I was texting. The officer stood there for a moment or two, trying to figure out how to give me a ticket for biting my nails, but then disappeared back into his hiding spot. The light was red again and I had to sit there and wait for another cycle.)

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