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— He was running away he said, when we pulled him over. I asked him from what, thinking maybe there had been a bar fight after closing, though he didn’t look beat up.
He had been going over 120 in an 80-kilometer zone.
— I wet the bed he replied.
— What?
— I was staying with some friends overnight so I could drive in the morning. I woke up wetting the bed. I was horrified! I fixed everything the best I could, and left a note trying to explain and offering to pay any cleaning costs. I couldn’t face them in the morning. I took my bags…I have never wanted to be in my own bed so much in my life. I just want to go home.
— Where’s home?
— Arnes, just past Gimli. God, can you imagine buying adult diapers in a small town drug store?
— Can I have your license please?
— No worries. It will be clean.
— So I went back to the car and we ran his license and his plates. He was right. He was also an amputee, but seemed fine with his fake leg. There was no need for him to get out of his mini-van. I checked with Todd and he agreed we could let him off with a warning. He’s left, already?
— You had to feel for the guy. I came back to his window and returned his license. Can you imagine what it must be like; he’s not even that old. He was crying and going on about how many more humiliations he would suffer before he would die. Dying is over rated he told me, and death the opposite.
— That worried me a bit so I asked about whether he was in a hurry to meet his maker.
— No, he said. I may welcome death, but I don’t want to kill myself. I haven’t tried to commit suicide since high school. What a mess that was!
— Ok, well take her easy; drive safe.
— That was that. And away he went. A quiet night otherwise. He reached for his coat. I’ll be happy to get home. — Good night, Bob.