The Rookie Cop

On the first day of his job, a rookie cop had just put up a speed trap on the highway when a car came whizzing past. He flipped on his siren and pulled the car over. When he walked up to the driver’s window, he saw it was an old lady inside.

Surprised that it wasn’t some young teenager, he said, “Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?”

“I wasn’t speeding if that’s what you’re suggesting,” said the old lady with a dismissive wave of her hand as she sighed and then crossed her arms.

A little shocked by the old lady’s attitude, the cop said, “According to the meter, you were, so… can I see your license please?”

“I don’t have a license,” said the old lady without making eye contact with him.

Thinking this is strange, the cop said, “Well, how about showing me your registration then…”

“I don’t have one of those either,” said the old lady making a point of showing how annoyed she was.

“The car has plates. It has to have been registered by somebody. You don’t own the car?” he asked.

“No. The person who owns the car is back there.”

“Where?” asked the cop.

“In the trunk,” said the old lady.

Shocked that he may have just inadvertently stopped someone involved in a much bigger crime than speeding, the cop asked the old woman to get out of her car. She complied and he went back to his car and picked up his radio.

“This is Officer Mickelson requesting assistance. It seems that I may have just pulled over a car with a body in the trunk,” he said. The dispatcher told the young officer she’d send someone right away.

A few minutes later, a senior officer pulls up in his patrol car and gets out. Together, he and the young officer, careful not to destroy any possible evidence, open the trunk. There’s nothing but a bag of groceries inside.

The senior officer walked over to the old lady, confused. “Ma’am… there’s nothing in your trunk but a bag of groceries.”

“I know,” said the old lady.

The senior officer exchanged a look with the rookie and then said, “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

The old lady replied, “It’s Mabel Jensen. Here… it’s right here on my license.” She reaches into her glove box and pulls out her driver’s license and hands it to the officer. The rookie just stared slack-jawed.

The senior officer turns to the rookie and says, “I thought you said she didn’t have one.”

“She said she didn’t,” says the rookie.

“Does this car belong to you, Ma’am?” asked the senior officer.

“Of course. See… it’s my name on the registration.” She pulls out her registration and hands it to the officer. “Did he tell you that I didn’t have registration for my car?” she asks.

The senior officer nods.

The old lady shakes her head. “Well I suppose that liar told you I was speeding too.”