A Mexican Police Experience “Bill! You just went through a red light!” …..”Whoopa Whoopa” Funny how those two sounds just seem to go hand in hand, no matter where I am in the world driving with my wife Dorothy. My current world was in Oaxaca, today, in fact, as we drove our little Westy out to one of the many upholstery places along the highway to Puerto Escondido. “Dam it” I said, just as the police truck appeared out of nowhere on the passenger side of the car. Red lights a flashing and a big smiling Mexican police officer waving at me. Dorothy and I put on our biggest stupid grins, rolled down the window and said in unison “HOLA.” He rolls down the window and says in perfect English. “Follow me.” And then he adds with a very devilish grin “don’t worry I speak English.” We follow and pull over in about one block and as he gets out of the police truck, Dorothy says just say it was your mistake. “Disculpeme “ or please forgive me. Before the officer has a word to say I repeat what Dorothy said and add “My fault, I didn’t see it until I was half way through and then it was too late,” I say with the biggest goofy grin I can muster. Raising my shoulders up as If I am that guilty little boy caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Dorothy looks at the officer and says grabbing her face and shaking it back and forth and says “I yelled at him to stop but it was too late.” By this time we notice that the other officer is writing out a ticket and I quickly change tactics telling the officer how we were Canadian writers doing stories on Mexico and tourism. He asks for my driver’s license. I hand it over, and now I’m now waiting for the Mordida dance. That’s where he tells he must give me ticket and take my license…instead he hands it back and says thank you and waves me on. Not even a warning or a “don’t do it again.” Just when you think you are beginning to understand how things work in Mexico…
Posted on: Mon, 30 Sep 2013 23:09:59 +0000
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