I'm sorry, but I did not know it was a crime to be young and tattooed at 10 a.m. You were one of Lake Forest's dumbest: the cop who pulled me over for matching the description of a criminal. Not an actual criminal who was driving a car similar to mine, or who looked like me, or had similar tattoos. No, you stopped me because I looked like a hypothetical criminal and therefore was worth stopping on the street for no other particular reason. You'd think that after such long, extensive training for the streets, a pig could tell the difference between prison tattoos and professional artwork. I guess not. I'm also guessing that since I weigh 130 pounds and obviously pose such a lethal threat, you and your partner with the shotgun felt it was necessary to force me facedown on the pavement. Just wanted to thank you for ruining my brand-new white shirt. And to say how much I enjoyed the dumb look on your face when you couldn't pull up any criminal history from my driver's license. If you're so desperate to meet your arrest quota, why don't you bring your badge and gun down to Leisure World and pull over a geezer in a golf cart for suspicion of driving while on Viagra?
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/oOC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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