From Christopher Hitchens at Slate.com:
There are the things you can try when confronted by a cop, and there are the things that you can’t—or had better not. Last Memorial Day, I was going in a taxi down to Washington, D.C.’s Vietnam Memorial when a police car cut across the traffic and slammed everything to a halt. Opening the window and asking what the problem was and how long it might last, I was screeched at by a stringy-haired, rat-faced blond beast, who acted as if she had been waiting all year for the chance to hurt someone. (She was wearing a uniform that I had helped pay for.) I often have a hard time keeping my trap shut, but I saw at once that this damaged creature was aching for trouble and that it would cost me days rather than hours if I supplied her with any back chat. (I think it was the mad way she yelled, “Because I can!” and “Because I say so!”) She was so avid with hatred that I didn’t even try to get close enough to ask or see her name or number. The whole thing, especially my own ignoble passivity, gnaws at me still when I reflect upon it. But it didn’t, if you understand me, reinforce any humiliating folk memory. Indeed, I had more or less forgotten it until recently…
