“Do you know why I pulled you over, ma’am?”
Officer Jensen leans on top of the canary-yellow Camaro fastback with a disapproving look on his thin features. His radar gun had nearly exploded when this thing came whipping down the country lane he’d been assigned to this weekend.
“I can’t imagine, Officer,” the driver says, all innocence.
“Ma’am, I clocked you going a buck ten in a forty. Anything about that seem odd to you?”
“Oh my. Yes, sir, I suppose that is a bit fast.” She smiles sweetly and bats her eyelashes at him through the window. “But seeing as there’s no one out here besides you and me, maybe you could let me off with a warning or a lecture or a coffee date?”
Jensen sighs and shakes his head. If this was the first time she’d done this, he’d be embarrassed. But seeing as it happens at least once a month, he’s nothing but frustrated.
“You can’t keep buzzing me like this when I’m on duty,” he says.
She sniffs. “Well, Steven, maybe if you called more, I wouldn’t have to get your attention this way.”
Before he can defend himself, she cranks the key in the ignition and peels away, leaving him standing on the shoulder in a cloud of dust and laughter.
Jensen pats the dirt from his uniform, then trudges back to his car, pulling out his phone.
“Siri, reminder: Tomorrow, 8am, call Mom.”
This story is part of No Novel November, a daily microfiction challenge. If you'd like to know more and/or join in, click here.
