I want that cloak.
Last night I almost punched my computer, kicked it across the room, and did a lovely tap dance on top of it, then repeat said actions on the entirety of WWU campus computer lab I was in. All because of a dang code writing project for one of my computer classes. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the painful details on writing PHP code and trying to incorporate CSS and HTML in order to make a cohesive webpage – though, it does make me sound super smart. The point is, because of this project I was on campus till 2:45AM. I easily could have been there till 5 or 6AM, but I wanted to catch the 3AM shuttle home.
It was cold. Hell, it was fucking freezing (note the oxymoron in the sentence and I’ll give you a dollar). It was the annoying kind of freezing where it looks warm. That happens a lot around here, it doesn’t snow often, so the cold feels extra cold because it looks like it’s actually 50+ degrees outside. It messes with your senses.
As I walked towards the bus stop I was convinced I was the only alert human being on campus. That moment would have been a great time to mug, rape, or murder me, for no one would notice till the normal waking hours. I was almost at the stop when I saw a bus turn the corner, that meant that I’d have to wait at minimum 15 minutes for the next bus to come along. I didn’t like that. Not at all.
The bus stop had the shuttle schedule posted, the last bus would arrive at 2:56AM and it was 2:48AM. I was psyched! Until at 2:56AM I watched the bus not turn down my direction, rather it took the road with NO BUS STOPS ON IT! The shuttle schedule lied! And now I was standing alone on the sidewalk in the dark and wintry weather. Obviously I was pissed, I practically started crying and had to resist the urge to do an angry dance like Kevin Bacon in Footloose.
I was in a state of limbo – should I call people or just walk?
I decided to call my close friends with cars, of course no one answered, considering the hour. Eventually I saw a cop drive by, then I watched it slow, U-turn and eventually pull up next to me. This is the second time this has ever happened to me. The first was at Jessy’s birthday party when I was drunk and hugging a fire hydrant – that’s a whole different story, I’ll write it later, promise.
It was a male cop, he questioned what I was doing out so late. I explained the shuttle situation to which he responded rather unsympathetically that it ends at three. I knew this, I told him about the bus driving passed me and how none of my friends answered their phones. He suddenly looked sympathetic, asked where I live, and motioned for me to get in the backseat.
The seat was hard plastic and the seat belt looked like it had been designed for a space ship. There was limited leg room and a glass window separating me from the officer. My first thought was, how do they arrest fat people? They’d never fit. The ride was awkwardly silent, I tried to break the ice: introduced myself – mostly I just said thank you a lot.
When we reached my apartment he got out, opened the door for me, and said, “It’s like a limo but less comfortable.”
I smiled, “I really appreciate it,” then walked towards my door while he drove away.
I really hope that is the last time I ride in the backseat of a cop car.