So, after the end of my 184th 15 hour day, I leave the farm.
The big semi I just loaded was in my way. I have a single line on the road, I go to pass the truck.
The single line turns to a double line as I pass the truck. You know what's coming.
$170 citation from your stiff-ass-piece-of-human-garbage North Carolina State Trooper.
He tried to bait me into an arguement. He wanted to fight. He wanted some action.
I could have tried to explain about the line but something told me not to. I just said "I'm sorry" numerous times and let him do what he had already made his mind up to do anyway.
Something tells me I got off easy, being the out-of-towner and all.
One of mi Hispanic amigos told me this morning that the same cop was hassling him at the store around the corner just minutes before he popped me.
And get this... on my citation, under "race", the cop wrote "Hispanic".
The Leeman is NOT Hispanic. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
But now that North Carolina has officially rendered me Hispanic, I officially no longer feel safe in North Carolina.
Fuck this place.
06/16/08 - An addendum: The owner of this place says that they put up a roadblock looking for drunk Mexicans. I know I've been profiled... I just don't know if it's the drunk part or the Mexican part. Dos Mios!
3 comments:
You sure got a pretty mouth.
Now, squeel like a peeg!
Like the peeg that just wrote yer $179 ticket!
But it's not his fault, I've mistaken you for a drunk Mexican before myself. It's an honest mistake.
You've mistaken my foot for a urinal before, ya jackass.
Si, Senor Leebo es muy mexicano
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