Good thing you didn’t start with the Washington clause
Boy was in a jam. He’d just been stopped by a cop in mirror sunglasses in the middle of nowhere. The cop was threatening to arrest him and impound his car solely because he had exceeded the speed limit by more than 10 miles, which Boy denied. Boy didn’t think he’d been speeding at all, but it was his word against a vato who seemed perfectly comfortable acting as judge, prosecutor and executioner at the same time. If he went to jail and his car went to an impound lot, it’d take days to resolve everything and block his big first date that weekend with his childhood sweetheart, Meche.
But there was a possible silver lining in an otherwise bad situation. The cop’s name badge said Zubiate, a rare last name, and he was related to that family. And the cop had acknowledged the kinship when Boy asked him, yet he didn’t seem to be retreating. At the same time, he still hadn’t put the cuffs on Boy. Did this mean he was negotiating?
Boy thought he’d try a gentle test.
“Since this is a pretty lonely road and you say I was only going 10 miles above the speed limit, ain’t I protected by the Lincoln clause?” Boy asked.
The cop smiled behind his sunglasses.
“The Lincoln clause doesn’t work in this case. Good thing you didn’t start with the Washington clause. That would’ve been insulting,” he said.
“No, I think the severity of your infraction means only the Benjamin clause or higher will cover it.”
“Sorry, I meant the other bearded guy, Grant. You sure that clause won’t cover me?” Boy asked.
“Nel. I need to check my law book to be sure, but if I do, it may turn out that the problem is as high as chapter 2, maybe even 3 and 4 of the Benjamin clause,” the cop said.
“So the Benjamin clause, chapter 1, is where we are?” asked Boy.
“Lemme get my law book,” the cop said.
“No, never mind, I’ll plead to it right away,” said Boy reaching into his back pocket.
The cop started laughing. Boy was confused.
“What?” Boy asked.
“Primo, I’m just kidding. I ID’d you as you were passing by,” the cop said.
“By now, everybody knows you came back home,” the cop said.
“My jefito’ll be happy to hear I saw you. You should go say hi to him in OJ.”
“I will,” said Boy.
“Meanwhile, slow down on the curves. The speed limit is 10 miles slower than the straight aways,” the cop said.
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