driving along at midnight listening to groove armada at high volumes, a hidden police car starts emerging from the bushes, he's flashing me and siren on so i pull over.
he's clocked me on his zap gun radar at 100ks, that's 30 over the limit. he writes me a ticket and because it's a long weekend i'm double fucked.
'don't you ever get tired of it?' i say.
'tired.'
'yeah of the whole system, writing people tickets and collecting cash for the government, revenue raising instead of stopping crimes.'
'it's my job.'
'yeah i understand but don't you ever question your role?'
'no i just do my job.'
'like an android following out it's programming.'
'your not in a position to get cheeky.'
'no i understand that, i'm just communicating with you, i'm interested in why a man feels his sense of duty is unwavering.'
'look if you want to make a complaint there's a procedure.'
'no i'm not complaining, you busted me, i 'm guilty, i'm just asking you why you follow orders when you know they are crap.'
'speeding kills people, i'm saving them,'
'no you're making them poorer and the state government some quick cash to pay your wages, therefore i am paying your wages.
'that's a very simplistic view.'
'but it's not wrong.'
he's looking at me like i'm some piece of shit he's wiped of his boots, but i continue figuring i've not much else to loose. he's a spotty teenager, no experience, probably never lived alone, mum does his washing.
'if i pay your wages, i'm your boss.'
'indirectly.'
'well then as your boss i'm asking you not to issue me with a speeding fine.'
'ha, your kidding right.'
'nope.'
'look if you want to make things difficult i can fine you for having a bad attitude.'
'your fired officer.'


fucking hell, 400 dollars, 8 points.
when will it end?