Dh and I are often victims of Murphy's Law. If we can fall in it, trip over it, muck it up or just foul it up in general, we're there.

Yesterday, as I was driving home (FRESH! and RELAXED!) from my manicure and pedicure, I got pulled over by the nice policeman. I saw the K-9 car and knew exactly what he was going to do. I did wonder, however, if he would give me $35.00 to get a new manicure, because I knew he was going to ask for my ID which would require the inserting of the nails into my wristlet. Bastard.

Now, normally, I'm not a girly girl. I have neither time nor patience for all that. Plus, if I try and save a buck and do it myself, I inevitably foul it up. And, need I point out working with kids? Manicures don't last a New York minute, nevermind you a Tokyo minute. Dh DID make a remark how nice it would look, so I thought, "Hey! I AM a bitch all the time, I might as well look nice for my husband." And it seems I was to be punished for it.

So I pulled over and stopped at the cone, as I was instructed by Officer Riley. I slowly and carefully pulled out my ID and handed it to him.

"Can you step out of the car?"

"Of Course!" I answered cheerily, wondering if I looked as annoyed as I really was. I was just trying to get home to my husband, dammit.

"First I'll need you to pop the hood, trunk, and open all the doors."

I felt my face flush. "I don't know how to pop the hood." I mean, most of the time I do, because dh has showed me, but this time, I just couldn't see it, and there was no way in hell, I was going to get out and stick my head down under the wheel to see the little latch (in a skirt, ankle length, but my ass would've been hanging out there for God and Everybody to gawk at no less. Oh and we gawk on this base. I can't tell you how many times I have laughed at the poor sap unfortunate to be car number four and get pulled over. Hello Karma?).

"Well can you get out so I can pull it?" he was starting to get annoyed.

"Of course!" If he wasn't calling me Ma'am, I certainly wasn't extending the formality.

"Here is your hood latch."

"Okay. Thanks."

I turned off the car, got out, and popped the trunk, all while he was recording my name, phone number, calories consumed that day and anything else "the government" needed to know.

"Do you have the time?"

I looked at him sheepishly, motioning that I don't wear a watch. "No."

He's a problem solver. He looks inside the car.

"Ummm, I turned it off." No clock for you!

Officer Riley was very exasperated with me at this point. I couldn't do anything right.

"Would. You. PLEASE. Open. Your. Doors. Please." he exhaled, anxious to get the damn search over.

"Of course!" I twinkled. It's not like I was TRYING to be difficult. I was just trying to follow directions.

He brought the dog over, and like myself, the canine was less than cooperative. He looked like he would rather jump in the car and hang himself out the window than sniff for drugs. This was going to take a while.

I stood on the curb, back to the passing traffic. I turned momentarily to see a family all staring at me while waiting for the light to turn Green. HEY LOOK! A carful of my old students AND their parents! Que Wonderful! At least they hadn't been there when I was supposed to look for the hood popper.

I saw Officer Riley again today. He just glared at me.

What did I do?