not guilty but not innocent

“That’s a nonissue officer,” I say to a serious looking cop flipping his flashlight end over end at 11PM on Wilshire Blvd. I was pulled over for failure to have a non-operating headlight, expired tags and speeding. “Officer, I’m going to grab my license and insurance out of my bag,” I ask before handing the documents to his overweight partner, who goes back to his car to check my story out. I begin conversing with the cop looking to crack someone over the head in the hopes he will not bring up the exhaust is too loud or the lack of mirrors on the bike. “The headlight works I just forgot to turn it on after getting gas,” I explain. “The brake light wasn’t on either,” he retorts.

“The brake light only works when the headlight is on,” I explain, turning on the bike and showing him that everything’s functional. He agrees that everything is working but he notices a pot container that is hanging below the bike. “What’s in here?” he asks. “That’s just a container I found to catch fluids expelled from the bike in case I crash on a track.” He knocks the container with his flashlight causing some water to slosh onto the ground, which satisfies his query. The overweight cop gives me back my documents and says everything checks out. “Slow it down,” chirps the nervous cop before both officers get in their car and drive off. When I get home there is a letter in the mail saying the city of Los Angeles has dropped a parking violation against me for some technical reason. “Call me Teflon Sean,” I say to my grandfather. “Why’s that?” he responds. “Because none of the charges levied against me by a peace officer this week have stuck,” I say, laughing at the distinction between being not guilty but not innocent either.
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