Humiliated and terrified by arrogant, power-wielding police officer

August 11, 2011

It's Thursday afternoon and I'm driving along a busy road, going about my hectic routine. (Even more hectic than usual today - dropping daughter off at ballet, squeezing in errands during her class, whizzing off to pick up son from play-date, driving back to pick up daughter from ballet, whizzing off to drop of daughter at play-date, etc)...

Suddenly, just after pulling away from a traffic light, I see and hear police sirens behind me. Instinctively, I pull over to the right side of the road to let the police car pass. To my horror, he pulls over behind me too and flashes at me. I can't believe it - does he mean me? What have I done wrong? Was I speeding? I don't think so. I'm on a busy dual carriage-way and realize I can't stop on this road safely, so I turn right on a little side street and pull over.

I am baffled and scared - Why on earth have I been pulled over? I rack my brains. I haven't gone very far - I've just been to the 7 Eleven Gas station, driven through the strip mall parking lot and then I pulled out on to this road. I've only driven a few hundred yards on the main road. I've not been speeding. I've not run the light. Had I been speeding earlier, on my way here, and this police officer was pulling me over for it now? My mind started racing, thinking back, wondering if he had been following me and tracking me all this time for the speeding I might have done earlier.

The police officer takes his time getting out of his car. I roll the window down and stick my head out, watching and waiting for him to approach. He very slowly swaggers over to me, John Wayne style, hands on hips, thumbs in pockets. His slowness makes me squirm, as I'm waiting with bewilderment and trepidation to find out what I have done wrong. He finally reaches the window and looks down his nose at me, tilting his head back, setting his face into an angry grimace. I look expectantly up at him, my face openly showing my fear and confusion.

The very first thing he says to me, in an angry, arrogant, intimidating tone is: "So, what was going on back there at the Walgreens, huh?"

I'm in even deeper shock. Walgreens? What? What is he talking about? I hadn't even been to the Walgreen. I had been at the
7 Eleven Gas station, and had driven past the Walgreens, on my way out of the parking lot. My imagination starts doing somersaults: - "Oh my god - he's confused me with someone else - I've been wrongly identified as some thief or criminal who's burgled or done something criminal at the Walgreens! Help! I'm innocent!"

He must have taken my blank stare for deafness, stupidity or guilt, as he repeats the question:
"So, what was going on back there huh?"

I'm so confused and frightened, I just say, "I don't know! What is going on? I'd like to know what's going on!"

Then he starts describing, in the most condescending, arrogant way, how I've just "disobeyed a traffic control sign" by turning left out of a right-turn only lane. My first gut reaction is relief: "Oh! Phew! I haven't been mistaken for some thief that burgled Walgreens after all! I've merely made a mistake with a traffic sign in a turn lane. Not a big deal!"

Maybe he sees the look of relief on my face and doesn't like losing that sense of power over me, because he then starts ramping up the severity of his tone. He starts raising his voice and talking at me with an over-exaggerated slowness and deliberateness (as if I am truly stupid, ignorant or deaf). He describes the place I just turned out of, with its obvious "right-turn-only sign", its triangular concrete island in the middle, etc, and the fact that I wilfully disobeyed the traffic sign.

I rack my brains to think back to that exit. Was it really a right-turn-only exit? I had not seen any sign. It looks like a one-way exit, with two lanes:- one lane curving to the right, and one lane curving to the left. I had followed the curve to the left (on the left hand side of the triangular concrete island).

I try to (very politely and calmly) explain this to the officer. This clearly incites his wrath further. He is not merely impatient and irritated with me, he appears quite angry and full of hate towards me. He starts raising his voice even more, telling me that I could not possibly have mistaken it - and he starts lecturing me about how dangerous I was being, since it was rush hour and heavy traffic, etc.

But there is something in his eyes that scares me, beyond the talk of the traffic offense. It's the hatred. His eyes are cold and stony and full of hatred. It makes me shudder. Even in that moment, I get an intuitive sense that he's possibly a woman-hater. It seems clear to me that he doesn't like the fact that I am an articulate, intelligent, educated woman - and what's more - innocent. I get the sense that he is "out to get me" no matter how calm and level-headed my responses are.

I hand him my drivers licence, (which I've had pulled out since the very beginning), and then he asks me for my car insurance card. I've also had this out since the beginning too, ready to hand over. But, to my horror, as I look down at it, I realize it has just expired! (It expired 12 days ago on July 31st). I hand to him sheepishly, apologizing that I don't have the most recent card. My mind races, wondering where it could be. I look deeper into the glove compartment, but I know it's a futile search. The insurance card is kept in a little folder with the registration certificate and documents for the car. If the most recent insurance card had been in the car at all, it would have been in this folder. There's no way it would have fallen out into the glove compartment.

Not blaming Dave, but I know that this has happened before - we tend to forget to put the most up-to-date insurance card, tax sticker, resident sticker, etc, on or in our car! I can just picture the new insurance card sitting on the dining room table amongst Dave's notorious "piles".

So, I apologize profusely for not having the new card with me, but the officer is not accepting this. He interrupts me, points a finger at me and says in a loud, threatening tone, "SO, ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU CAN'T PRODUCE A VALID INSURANCE CARD?" I stay as calm as I can, and politely explain that I have it, but just not with me at this moment.

After glaring at me angrily for several moments, he then says with a viciously condescending tone: "OK, I'm going to give you ONE MORE CHANCE to find it". He starts walking back to his car. As he turns away he says, over his shoulder, "And when you find it, hold it out of your window." He stops and takes one step towards me again, leaning forward to wag his finger at me again. "And DO NOT GET OUT OF YOUR CAR!"

I look at him with bewilderment again, and shake my head. No, of course I won't get out of my car. Who does he take me for? A criminal? A low-life? Some non-compliant, hooligan that he has to come down on like a ton-of bricks?

Now I'm scared. What do I do? I don't have the new card. I call Dave (who's at work). I explain everything to him in a rush, breaking down in tears from the stress. He is very calm and comforting. He realizes he has the card in his wallet with him at work, and he apologizes profusely to me. He offers a solution. He says that if necessary he will leave work immediately, get the train to the nearest station to where I am, and come to the spot where I'm parked and bring the card to me. Or, he would be happy to talk to the officer on the phone and/or get State Farm on the phone to talk to the officer to assure him of our good insurance record.

OK, so now how should I get the officer back to talk to me? He is sitting in his car, writing away (writing my ticket). I feel trapped. If I hold the old insurance card out of the window, I'm essentially lying by suggesting I've found the new one. But if I sit here and don't do anything, how long will it take him to come back and how angry will he be then?

So I gingerly hold the old card out of the window, my hand trembling. He looks up and sees me, but doesn't immediately move. Eventually, after he's finished writing his papers, he gets out of his car and strides slowly over to me again.

Cringing with fear, I say, (in my best, cultured, politest English accent), "I'm terribly sorry, Officer, but my husband has the new card with him. He's in his office in down town Chicago right now. But he's willing to get the train over here and bring it to us."

Hoping that this show of compliance and deference would soften him a bit, I look at his face. It is still hard, stony, cold and full of hatred. He says condescendingly, "Well, that would take far too long now, wouldn't it?"

I look down at my lap and hang my head. I simply say "I'm sorry" in a very meek and humble tone. I sigh, wring my hands and rub my forehead. I don't know what else to say, and I can tell he is enjoying my discomfort. Infact, now finally, I can sense that he has softened a bit. (Yes, now that he has reduced me to meekness and humility, instead of assertiveness, it is clear he feels better).

He turns away silently and walks back to his car again. After letting me stew in my discomfort for several more minutes, he comes swaggering back. He tells me, still in that incredibly arrogant, condescending tone, that he is going to "let me off" this one time for not producing a valid insurance card. He emphasizes the severity of this, and makes it clear that he is being incredibly merciful in "letting me off". (I would love to say in a sarcastic tone, "Oh yes, thank you O Mighty One - you are indeed all powerful and benevolent") But I just nod meekly, keeping my head low and my eyes down, doing my best impression of a 7 year old school girl.

He then tells me that he has written me a ticket for the traffic violation, and explains how I can mail the fine in, and that I don't have to appear in court. (Again he emphasizes that if he had written me two tickets like he could have, I would definitely have to go to court.) Yes, yes, thank you, thank you, I nod. O merciful and kind one!

But just incase I am feeling too relieved, he leans forward towards me and adds in a spiteful tone, "But I'm keeping your driver's licence as BOND!" I stare at him blankly. Bond? What does that mean? Oh, he's keeping my driver's licence to make sure I don't skip out on the fine? Oh ok - fine. Whatever. Again, treating me like a criminal - not to be trusted.

As he hands me the paperwork, the ticket for $120 and the instructions, I look up at him one last time, summoning my dignity back again. I can sense the end is near and that I am nearly free to escape this nightmare. So I look him in the eyes, smile politely and say, in my deepest, most confident, educated English accent (nodding deferentially but in a queenly way), "Well, thank you very much, Officer. I appreciate that. Have a good evening." And we part ways.

* * * * * * * *

Later that afternoon, I went back the scene of my "crime" and took many pictures from all angles. It appears I did make a small mistake in mis-interpreting the exit as a one-way exit with two lanes. However, it is very easy to see why I made that mistake. There were no signs, no lines on the road, nothing obvious to indicate that the left side of the "triangular concrete island" was an incoming entry, and not a left-turn exit. I have taken pictures of the right-turn only sign - it was far over to the right, almost hidden by a bush. It was not in any way visible to someone driving towards the left side of the island. There was no "one-way" or "no entry" sign, no markings at all on the road.

OK, so I made a mistake, but it was an honest one, and an understandable one. That exit is very vague and very mis-leading. There was no need for that police officer to act so rude, cruel and condescending towards me.

Of course, the outcome is - I just want to pay the fine and get rid of the memory of this whole horrible incident. But Dave wants me to go to court and contest it. We'll see. I should, but a) can I face that officer again? and b) is it really worth the stress?