"Let's drive," she said. "It'll be fun," she said.
Yesterday my wife, daughter, and I drove into Manhattan for a play date on 110th street. After a series of boneheaded moves that took us over the Manhattan Bridge and then back into Brooklyn over the Williamsburg Bridge, we finally made it over the Triboro Bridge. We were sitting at a red light, a mere block away from the play date, when a cop car pulls up and parks perpendicular right in front of us, blocking our way. The next thing I know, there are about 5 cop cars all around us. The cops get out of their cars with their weapons drawn. Um - - weapons!? I took a look in my rear view mirror, wet my pants (not in that order) and said, "they're after the guy behind us."
And sure enough, I was right. The cops started yelling for the guy to get out of his SUV, show is hands, and to get down on the ground. I'm thinking, "please oh please don't go out in a blaze of glory. Do what they say."
Fortunately he did. The cops got him down on the ground and cuffed him. They cuffed the woman who was driving the SUV.
The light turned green and I was able to go around the cop car.
Another perp pinched by our peace-keeping posse.
4 comments:
You prose of preposterous peril pitting protective police in opposition to perps proximate to your car's place on the parkway is particularly provocative. It's not a piss poor performance at all - perchance you're properly proud? Perhaps prospective protean posts can proceed proclaiming alliterative ponderings.
Precisely.
Sounds like a very arresting episode!
Triboro Bridge? What gives Tonto?
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