The radar gun read “92 mph.”
Sighing, the police officer pulled his patrol car onto the nearly deserted highway and then turned on his siren.
The red sports car was a good ways ahead of him, but if the driver had any sense, he’d see the flashing lights in his rearview mirror and pull over.
The police officer accelerated until he started to close the gap. For a moment, he thought the sports car would make a run for it. He was about to call for backup when he saw the speeding vehicle slow down. Soon enough, it pulled off the side of the road.
After pulling in behind the sports car, he carefully got out and approached the driver’s side. Shortly, he could see it was a male driver, and a young one at that.
The young man rolled down his window, but didn’t say anything. The police officer didn’t sense any danger from the kid—if anything, he sensed contempt.
“Any idea how fast you were going there, son?” the police officer asked.
“And do you know what the speed limit is?”
The response took the officer by surprise. “No. And I don’t really care. I think it’s a stupid law and I don’t see why I should have to follow it.”
There was an embroidered logo on the young man’s shirt. It was from a local country club for only the richest of the rich. It wasn’t the first time the police officer had dealt with this same type of attitude. But it wasn’t always from the wealthy. It was from people of all ages, races and economic situations. Frankly, he was tired of it.
“I see,” said the police officer.
He took his gun from his holster. The young man’s eyes grew wide.
Two shots rang out.
The result was two flat tires on the sports car.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The young man said, clearly exasperated. “You can’t do that! It’s against the law! Oh, when my father’s lawyers get a hold of you, you’ll—”
The officer shut him up by lifting his gun.
“You know, I don’t really care. I think it’s a stupid law and I don’t see why I should have to follow it.”