the curse of manhattan place

to begin, let me clear up any confusion: you matter too, B. you matter, too.

the last 2 times i've left manhattan place, i've had brushes (or near-brushes) with the law. thursday night, coming home from the duke game, after dropping rachel off, an officer pulled me over. i suppose it was 230 in the morning, and he was probably somewhat suspicious.

but, what did he say when he pulled me over? "your license plate looked strange." right. thank you for wasting 30 minutes of my time in the middle of the night when i've been driving all day (and yes, i did tell him about UVa's big win.)

so, leaving last night after the super bowl, i'm on the toll road. not going too fast, and actually in the far right lane. they don't actually pull people in the far right lane over, do they? i'm following a white mini van. we go by a cop at probably 65 miles an hour. the toll road, for those of you that live on the 66 side of the world, is like a nascar track. people fly down it. so 65 is nothing. however, the cop pulls out. i start getting all pissed off about how i had just said that i didn't want to start a new tradition of being pulled over every time i left manhattan. fortunately for me, though, the cop throws his lights on behind me (yah, that was scary), then blows around me and whips in front of me. he pulled over the mini van.

phew. let's just chalk it up to strange coincidence, right?