Officer Rebecca had heard all the blonde jokes, but she never expected to live one. When she pulled over the speeding convertible, the blonde driver immediately began the universal “searching for license” panic – that frantic purse excavation every cop knows well.
After what felt like an eternity, the driver looked up desperately. “I can’t find it! What does it look like?” Rebecca, despite herself, fell right into the routine. “Square shape, has your photo on it,” she recited.
The driver’s face lit up with sudden understanding. She dove back into her bag and emerged with a small square mirror, checking her reflection before handing it over with a satisfied smile. Rebecca accepted it automatically before realizing what had just happened.
She looked at the mirror, then at the hopeful expression of the driver, then back at the mirror showing her own blonde reflection. With a sigh, she handed it back. “Warning this time,” she muttered, walking back to her patrol car. Some stereotypes wrote themselves.
