Ignorance should have been bliss

Once upon a time, many years ago, I had a friend that told me a story that will always stick in my head.

She ran a stop light - almost - and as she slammed on her breaks, all of her scripts came rolling out of her handbag.

Glancing down at her bag, she said aloud "It's over."

She put in her notice the same day.

A couple of years later, we saw each other again at yet another job where we both worked.  I would always tell her that when I reached the point that what happened to her happened to me, that would be the end.

For my friend, several months later, she decided she hated our current city and transferred soon thereafter.

Damn, she was fearless!!!

A couple of years later, as the late onset of my diseases were coming to the forefront, I ran a stop sign (how ironic, huh), and lo and behold, there was a cop dying to pull someone over.

He walked over to the car and I burst into tears.  He told me I was speeding and weaving.  In an attempt to validate my story, I held up my  handbag, shook it and it sounded like a drug dealer's backpack.  I continued to cry, explained I was late and what a bitch my manager was...and, if noticed, I took of the pills without water so that they would kick in before I was kicked there.

The tears (which were real), touched him b/c for the first time he pulled over someone that NEVER could have made up that story.

He gave me a ticket and told him to PLEASE be careful on the way to work.

I lived it...but the next cop (where I wasn't crying, just merely not looking...at the same stop sign), didn't show as much courtesy.

If I gave any of us pill-poppin' ladies any ideas, I've done my job.

If I made anyone chuckle, ditto.

M