I walked out to my car on Tuesday to find a police car?complete with a police officer?parked directly behind me.

As subtly as possible, I scanned the general vicinity to see if there was a fire hydrant nearby or someone’s cat under my tire. Nope?no overt violation.

Then the officer got out of his car. Doh! Apparently, he was waiting for me. Lovely, I thought, what in the hell did I not do now?

He approached me with a series of questions, “Is this your car?” “Are you sure?” “Were you at 7-Eleven today?” “Do you consider yourself a tall brunette?”

I answered yes to all of the above. Where was this going? Are brunettes no longer allowed in 7-Eleven?

I didn’t wonder for too long, though, after he asked me, “Did you by chance hit a parked police vehicle?”

Fairly certain that I would remember such an occurrence, I answered “no” with a genuine look of surprise.

“Well, we had a customer call in and say that you hit that car, and there is a small dent in its fender,” he said.

Then came the kicker: “Do you have to be anywhere any time soon?”

License, registration, insurance card?we went through the whole routine. The best part of it all is that I swear on my mom’s left breast that I didn’t hit that car. Could anyone be stupid enough to hit a police car in a crowded parking lot and drive away?

The cop was wondering the same thing.

“Tell me, why I should believe you didn’t hit that car?” he asked. Assuming I was a student, he then asked, “What is your major?”

OK?a chance to redeem myself. Students are good citizens.

“I am an English and mass comm major,” I replied.

“I hated English,” he said. Didn’t score any points there.

His next question: “Are you involved in anything on campus?”

“I write for The Chrony,” I said. I recognized my mistake before even finishing that sentence.

“I hate journalists,” he said with more feeling. I must have struck a nerve.

Already regretful of opening that nasty can of worms, I had to listen to the officer’s rant on how journalists negatively represent the police force.

After that spiel, my officer friend (jokingly, of course) requested that, since he didn’t cite me (even though he is still going to charge my insurance?blasted), I should vow to never write anything bad about the police, now or in the future.

Ha, ha, ha?silly man. In the very second that comment was uttered, “column idea” flashed across my head in neon.

This “idea” was not to bash the police officer in the disgruntled motorist/victim, “Oh, was I speeding?” tone. The possibility exists that I hit the car. Sure?I am oblivious to my surroundings most of the time. I am not interested in blaming the cop or proving my innocence. All I want to know, even if I am guilty of this “crime,” is who gives a rat’s ass?

It is not the cop, but the “good samaritan” who called to report my criminal deviance who is the real focus of my amazement. I would love to meet the person who, upon seeing me brush a parked car so lightly that I didn’t even feel it, took the time and effort to call the police on me.

The 7-Eleven patron who reported me sure did a lot of good for the community. Because of their call, not only did one cop have to find my car and wait for me, but another officer came down for “back up.”

After my initial reprimand from cop No. 1, cop No. 2 had to sit in his car for the same hour I had to sit in mine and wait for the police photographer to come take a picture, or rather several pictures from several angles, of nothing. There is not so much as a speck of paint on my bumper, and cop No. 1 even admitted that the dent in the police fender was close to imperceptible.

I am sure that whoever has to file and deal with this case is thrilled. I am sure taxpayers are thrilled that they get to pay for not one, but two cops?and a photographer?to seek out and punish me. The ding in that car is really not worth all the effort.

So, for whoever called or anyone else who would call in under similar circumstances, I hope you feel accomplished. Way to make those thugs like myself out there pay for our crimes.

Perhaps I will take your lead. The next time I see someone jay-walking or changing lanes without a signal, they are going down.

Jennifer welcomes feedback at: [email protected].