flashing lights

got pulled over by a cop on my way home friday night from pasta and chats. perfect end to a weird day. his first words: "francais ou anglais?" mine: "les deux". a slightly untrue response, i guess, because his next question, in french, sounded to me like "are you drunk tonight ma'am?" - which i was most certainly not, disappointingly - and so i looked up at him, stunned, and asked "whaaaaa?" at which point he was probably thinking, "ok, apparement, PAS les deux". he had followed me long enough to observe me push through two yellow lights. i had noticed him behind me, but the shadowy car with one broken headlight hadn't looked so police-y to me. luckily, he must have concluded that my stammering and confusion were unrelated to alcohol consumption. true 'dat. and so he let me go. fittingly, i believe. because how i felt most of that day: a dazed narrowly-escaping dough-head.