A Fair Cop

I was apprehended yesterday by a member of our fine law enforcement constabulary. My crime? I sped past the junction connecting Radge's old 32A haunt with the rest of the world as the traffic light flickered from orange to red.

"Do you know why I've pulled you over?"

"Erm, the orange... wet road surface... no time to slow up..."

"The light was red when you passed through it. It was green on my side so it was obviously red on yours."

"Erm."

"Do you need a fine?"

"What?"

"Do you need a fine?"

So how did I reply...

(a) "Well I have a stable job with a few nixers on the side so it wouldn't break the bank."

(b) "Do YOU need the fine? Have you stopped enough people for doing five km over the speed limit on the M50 to fill your quota for the month?"

(c) "No. And thank you constable for being sensitive to the pressures being put on Joe Everyman by the crippling global cash meltdown."

In the end it didn't really matter what I said, as he took off too quickly to hear me croak out a pathetically grovelling version of answer (c).

But to that Garda, wherever you are, I tip my imaginary hat.