Monday, 13 May 2002 | Politician

Without being told, I could tell he was a politician. He insisted on wearing his suit jacket for the photographs, he sat bolt upright in his chair, his expressions and gestures were controlled and predetermined, and every hair was in place. Sometimes when I look at people, I try to imagine what they looked like when they were younger. But this man had no younger. He has always been in his early 40s, he has never scraped his knee from falling off his bicycle, he's never worn a shirt that hasn't been starched and pressed.

***

I got a ticket yesterday, on the way back from my parents' house, on a stretch between a pair of dots on the map, the part colored in with tobacco fields. I wasn't aware of my speed. The cop was nice enough, aside from giving me a ticket, and even wished me luck, though I wasn't sure what I needed the luck for. Not getting pulled again? Five minutes after I got back on the road, just after I'd finished playing the event over in my head, I watched him pull another one, hidden in his stealthy, undercover car.