I invoke the me-you clause before you read another word. That makes everything you’re about to read inadmissible in the court of law should you choose to double-cross me. I am not a lawyer, I’m an advertiser. But I’ve been up to some mischief and now I’m coming clean.
When I got my car some time last year, I endured frequent stops by the police. The car is a decent silver Honda Civic, there’s nothing notorious about it. Me too I have an innocent face, no piercing or tattoo, almost always decently dressed. So it beat my imagination why they picked on me so. It wasn’t like I was stopped every day, but I’d have rather I wasn’t stopped at all.
They would ask for everything from driving license to spare duster. Sometimes I won, sometimes they did, but it felt very emasculating to beg some corrupt undeserving, completely compromised police office to take my hard earned cash and have a nice day with it. Is it the car that didn’t look too posh, or did I look like a small boy? Well I woke up one morning and decided I’d had enough of that!
I made sure I had a suit hanging in my back seat at all times. No matter how low on fuel I was, anytime I neared a police check point, I rolled up my semi-tinted windows and put the AC on full blast so that the chill would taunt them when I rolled down. To add to that, I’d always make sure that I was tuned in to BBC or had an audio book playing. That way when I said “Good day to you officer” in my Locally Acquired Foreign Accent, they’d get a very exaggerated sense of who they were talking to.
To crown it all up, I took both insurance and road worthy stickers off the windshield and fixed a Ghana Bar Association sticker right there in the center. I put it to you!
O boy was I on a roll! I cruised in and out of checkpoints like I was in the IGP’s convoy. There was even this one time Read More It’s Not The Bloody Sticker!