When the party's over, IT'S OVER

Soooooooooooo, Tuesday. Everyone is leaving except my mom who is going to Nebraska with me the next day. Lucas was the first to fly out, 11 a.m. flight. We were running tight for time. I was just getting near the Delta area when a bus pulled in front of me. I had to pull around him and then over to park and let Lucas off. We step out of the car for the rough, teary good-byes and are verbally accosted by a police officer. Lucas has been close enough to trouble that I told him I'd take care of it and just give me a proper good-bye. Off Lucas goes while the whole few minutes the officer had been continuously badgering me with, "Did you not see my bright green vest? Did you not see me wave you over? Did you think I was just standing out here in this bright green vest waving at you for the fun of it?". And on and on and on. I had seen him but I thought he was flagging me into the parking space. We are at the airport a lot and so are the police. Sometimes they let you park some times they don't. Sometimes they don't even let you slow down. Police are there all the time. Sometimes they are there to make sure there are no unattended parked cars sometimes it's because there's been a gun in some one's carry-on (my mom's previous trip here...not her...but her whole concourse had to be evacuated). Officer Doody Head asked me for my license and registration and in a tizzy I said, "This isn't my car". He got my license and sent me to my car to think about all the bad things I had done to make him so dawg gone mean. He took his sweet time and by the time he returned to the car I had mentally written the letter to the editor and had my little speech ready for him. I told him that I was fully aware that he was a law enforcement officer but that didn't give him the right to be rude and verbally abusive to me. He responded that he had been nothing but professional, I disagreed. I told him that while I completely respect law enforcement folks I was still the one who paid his salary and deserved more than to be badgered rudely. He kept interrupting me until he finally said, "Ma'am, stop talking", which I ignored until he said, "Ma'am, if you say one more word you will be arrested". I was being polite yet direct. Arrest me for what? I didn't say it because I had more folks to get to the airport, I needed to get my car back from Janine so I could pack it to leave for Nebraska the next day. Had I had the time I woulda asked. But really, ARREST ME FOR WHAT? It was scary. As I pulled away with my ticket FOR NO REGISTRATION (I told him that I had said it's not my car, not that I didn't have registration but by that time he wouldn't allow me to look for it in the glove box...just as well, my gun and crack were in there) I couldn't help but wonder had I not been an almost middle aged (ha, do the math), respectful looking white woman in a nice Suburban and been a young black man with a not too great a car, how would Officer Doody Head treated me. If someone like him feels the right to treat a decent looking, polite, old, white lady like that how does he treat teens, etc.? Oh I was boiling over. So much so that I had forgotten about the very large speakers we had left in the back of the Suburban from the night before. The plan was that when we removed Lucas' suitcase we would lay them down so they would be more stable. I was on the phone with JANINE recounting my trauma when I turned the corner and one of the speakers went through her back window. I eked or something, she asked me if I was okay, to which Chicken Little said, "Oh, yes.". I got home, called Valori out of the house and we panicked together.Maya, Eder, and Ben had been waiting for me to pick them up from the hotel for a long time because of the police delay. We were to have some time together that morning as their flight wasn't until afternoon. Valori and I were frozen. Then we were stumped as to what a person does in this situation. I had to pick up the kids, they plus Valori and Aaron had to ride in the truck to the airport. The window had completely shattered (tinted glass) but some was still in tact. Every movement sent more glass falling inside the truck. So we devised this lovely concept, inside and out. Swept out the glass onto the driveway, swept the glass from the driveway into the garbage meanwhile reminding each other that this was not a brain tumor, it was completely fixable albeit not what I had imagined to be what I would return to my bff as a thank you for her generosity. Soon I remember that a few years back our friend Julie had backed into Woody and Janine's Mercedes and they had been so sweet, calm, and gracious about the whole thing. These things kept me from doing a "Thelma and Louise" but between Officer Doody Head and the Speaker Through the Window Episode of 2007, I began to wonder if 50 was going to be my lucky year or not.

Four 'ritas and 3 Xanax later we could all chuckle a little and get to the airport without too much glass entering. It was a little tough to turn the truck over to Janine that afternoon when she returned my car in tip top shape. The window was fixed the next day, someone came to their house and fixed it and Janine said it was better than new. Well, I had loved that truck dearly but he done me wrong so I'm breaking up with you, Global Warmer, and yes, over the Internet. Tomorrow we head to Nebraska...