Made it to the weekend...

Agency training is much like college. You spend the majority of your time learning things you will never actually use in the field. With all the advanced training I have gone through, the hand to hand combat, weapons and de-escalation techniques, you would think I would have to have some heavy duty shit running through my head at all times. This is also a falsehood.

The most important thing I have to remember all day long is...to be on time.

With five minutes to spare, I jumped in the F1. My three minute commute and today there was no time for a coffee stop...(DAMN YOU, GEORGE WASHINGTON!!!) Since the first day of Spring, my mind has switched to thoughts of warmer temperatures, sunshine and not having to scrape the fucking windshield to be able to see. The F1 backed out of hangar 1 and prepared for take off. The morning sun hit the aforementioned frost and illuminated the cockpit like a searchlight on a diamond. I was for all intensive purposes blind. The F1 was still to cool for defrosters to be helpful. Not yet off the runway, I had three minutes before I was supposed to be at the Agency.

"Fuck Winter, fuck frost, fuck shoveling, fuck this state, I'm not even supposed to live here anymore." many more curses were uttered gentle readers but being the consummate gentleman, I will spare you. I lit the fires and burnt the tires and took off with extremely limited visibility. It was on like Donkey Kong. I cussed out people double parked on sidestreets, yakking about nothing on cellphones, as their suburban all-terrain entitlement vehicles feasted on gas and killed American soldiers for no good reason. Weaving in and out of traffic that may or may not have been there, my windshield began to clear...just in time for me to see a cop coming up hard on my tail.

Agency training has taught me how to be casual in hot situations. However due to lack of sleep, and a general disdain for most law enforcement agents, I whipped the ponies and took off like a fat kid for the dessert table. Officer Jellydonut let me get about 200 yards away before he decided to throw his lights on and begin pursuit. I had about 500 yards before I'd be able to pull into Agency grounds. Rearview mirror told me he ment business. He was closing to fast and I was gonna have to make a run for it.

He played with the sirens as if I didn't see the obscene lights on the top of his car. I had neither the time nor desire to deal with his high school hero, trying to relive the glory days, bullshit. The F1 smelled my apprehension and gripped the road even tighter. 250 yards...he's four blocks away...200 yards...2 and 1/2 blocks away...75 yards...1 block...20 yards...up my ass and looks like I'm gonna get nailed. "Fuck this" I yelled and kept on driving. I wheeled into the Agency parking lot. Jellydonut was still in hot pursuit.

I shut the F1 down and stepped out. Jellydonut pulled up along side of me and down came his window. He started off with something calm and professional like, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I had no obligation to speak to him but wanted to make him feel like an even bigger idiot. I flashed him my badge and waved bye-bye like a small child. I can't say I've ever seen anyone clentch their jaw with as much force as this malcontent. The passenger window of the cruiser rose and I watched the towns finest punch the steering wheel and scream as he drove away.

I took small comfort in the fact I had made it to work and managed to make someone else's day that much brighter. Unfortunately, El Capitan was at the door to greet me and ball me out for being two minutes late. My watch read 7:01.

I swear sometimes it seems like the world has been completely overrun by savages.