I know a woman who along with her husband have helped me remember to laugh when things get ridiculous.

A disclaimer: I have great respect for police officers. I think they have dangerous shitty jobs and are paid shit to do them. And because they are fellow humans, sometimes interactions with them become just plain silly.

The other day, a Federal police officer and I were each filling up our respective vehicles. I was wearing a suit (I clean up pretty well, if I do say so myself) because, although I am a tiny minnow swimming in an enormous ocean, I am sometimes asked to attend meetings where much larger fish ponder Important Issues related to this vast sea, and I happen to know some minnow stuff that is of use to their pondering. I knew he was a Federal officer because of the decals on his huge truck-like vehicle and he was wearing the full gear: dark uniform, batman utility belt (what are all those cool looking tools anyway?), bulletproof vest (how horrible this is needed for any job), dark sunglasses, etc. I am quite sure I would not have guessed he was a Federal officer without the truck decals. Despite the accouterments, he was short, chubby and frumpy. Picture Eric Cartman from South Park episode where he impersonates a police officer.  Yes, I know, judging, much judging, but in all fairness Washington has many officers of all different flavors so you have an opportunity to collect a lot of data. Most of these brave men and women look physically fit and sharp, like they have their act together and they know what they are doing. The kind of people who, in an emergency, you would feel quite comfortable following the instructions they would provide. This guy, not so much.

So we are quenching the thirst of our fossil fuel consuming machines. I am making note of my judging with the heartfelt intention of continuing to try to be less judging in all areas of my life (Namaste, you damn hippies). I say hi to him and smile. He provides the requisite serious nod. I turn to my phone to check on my work email.

Then things take a turn toward the silly. As sometimes happens, when our gas tanks say, “Thanks, I am stuffed. Really, not another drop” and the gas nozzle automatically shuts off, there is a bit of gasoline spillage that runs down our cars and drips on the ground. I hate it when that happens even it is only a 1/2-1 cup of gas.

Then the police officer (PO) pops up his head and says, “You have created an environmental incident and have to pay a fine.”
Me (Thinking I have misheard): Yeah, I hate when the nozzle doesn’t cut off in time and the gas spills.
PO: You committed an environmental violation and you will have to pay a fine to cover the clean up and damage.
Me: Excuse me?
PO: This is an environmental issue, punishable by a fine.
Me: Oh…….ummm….. Oh…..
He stares at the massive toxic chemical spill as it spreads across the concrete, envisioning the impending environmental disaster. I stare at the wet spot about the size of a dinner plate that is already beginning to evaporate.

PO: And this didn’t have happen if you had been paying attention instead of looking at your phone. (To make a point, he stops his nozzle and removes it without a drop spilling (well, maybe a few drops were spilling but it didn’t seem fruitful to point that out))
Me:……… (In my head: Really, Officer Frumpy? What about the automatic nozzle? What about perspective about the actual amount of gas spilled? Is this really how you want our brief interaction to go? One which started with me being fucking nice and saying hello?)
PO: You need to go inside, tell them what you did, and they will document this and fine you.

Now this is a turning point in our story. I have a decision to make. This interaction has, from my prospective, descended into complete silliness.  Not that I am happy to have spilled gasoline, but an “environmental incident” for which I need to go inside, report my heinous offense and face a well-deserved punishment from which society can only pray I learn a valuable lesson and repent my evil cellphone checking, gas spewing ways seems a bit of an over-response.  Do I protest?  Laugh and ignore him? Try to reason with Officer Frumpy? Stand my ground for all who are oppressed by The Man? Get sassy and be an asshole?  Refuse to face my fate?  Make a run for it? Drive home as fast as I can, grab my remaining pets, a change of clothes, leave a note for my daughter, and make a run for Canada?

I chose a different route.   In part because who wants to make a run for Canada with winter coming? However, the primary reason was because of the Random Acts of Kindness gig. I  thought about how his typical day might go. I thought about the stream this human might be swimming in, the monsters and fears that come out from under the rocks on the bottom of that stream.  I could be wrong, Office Frumpy might be a highly respected member of his organization and throughout his world, but I wondered if instead he felt frequently challenged as to his competence and worth.  If he felt like that others would only take him seriously if he constantly demonstrated his grasp of the rules and laws, and that he must always be on guard for receiving lack of respect. I wondered if maybe he felt bad about himself.

I may have been so completely wrong in my assessment of what it might be like to be him that there should have been an additional fine levied against me for such poor assessment skills, but it didn’t matter.  If I was wrong and he is a Rock Star among Federal Officers, it didn’t mater. If I was right, then treating him with sincere kindness was a good way to go.  And so, this human who I imagined was struggling in heavy seas was the recipient of that day’s Random Act of Kindness, whether he knew it or not.

Me: Wow, I had no idea.  Yes, I will definitely go inside, let them know and pay the fine.

Keeping the best straight face I could, I walked inside to to confront my grizzly fate.  As I expected, when I explained the nature of my offense and that I had come to be punished, the young man behind the counter looked bewildered.  I told him the tale of my environmental incident and, although he listened closely, his confusion only grew.  Finally. he blurted out that they don’t write those things down and they don’t fine customers.  He seemed greatly relieved when I accepted this information, wished him a good day, and left without insisting on being punished.

I laughed really hard when I got back to my car.  A gift a laughter from whatever entity oversees the Great Game of RAK.
Addendum: The Universe has the most marvelous sense of humor. When I was leaving work last night, I walked past the security guards, smiled and said good night, went about about 10 steps and realized I left my briefcase in my office. I turned around walked back to the guards, explained I needed to go back. One of the guards, much to surprise of both myself and the other guard, demanded to see my ID. I explained it was in my briefcase….in my office…. He said that once I pass them, I was considered to be “outside” and needed to show ID or have someone sign me in. I said, but I just walked by you, I never left your sight, I turned around without touching the door….. The guard stood his ground. I started laughing and walked away. Well played, Universe, well played.