Police Officer John was on his daily watch on Interstate 210, which is located in central Minnesota. His attention was drawn to an old Ford that was traveling over the speed limit on the highway. He turned on the flashers on the car and followed the intruder. The offender obediently pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.
When the policeman approached the car, he saw a very old lady. He thought to himself that she must be the same age as his great-grandfather, who had died twenty years earlier. The traffic cop tried to hide his astonishment and asked to see her registration, proof of insurance and driver’s license.
The lady handed him all the documents. When John looked at the year of the reckless driver’s birth, it darkened in his eyes, she was almost 94 years old. He couldn’t hide his surprise anymore. And the old lady looked at him through thick glasses and smiled crookedly. There was something demonic in that grin with bared artificial teeth. The documents were in order, but among the papers the policeman found a permit to carry a weapon! In her “maiden years”! He took a deep breath and asked:
“Do you have a weapon with you?”
Without saying a word, the grandmother pulled an automatic pistol from the glove compartment and looked questioningly at John. His body language and the sixth sense inside the policeman made him ask:
“Do you have any other weapons?”
The older lady pulled out a Glock 9mm (Lugger) from some hiding place. The policeman’s eyes blurred. Grandma’s got a whole arsenal in her car!
“Maybe she’s got a bomb hidden under the seat,” he thought.
To clear the air, John half-heartedly asked:
“Do you have anything else that shoots or explodes?”
This time Grandma cheerfully replied:
And she retrieved a small ladies’ pistol from her large bag. The policeman asked the woman, just in case, what she was afraid of, having so many guns with her. In response, he heard an obscene expression, which can be roughly translated as: just not sexual harassment.
John was already regretting stopping that old car with the heavily armed grandmother. Telling her quickly to drive slower on the highway, he let her go. Her antique car took off briskly, showering the policeman with clouds of exhaust fumes, and disappeared into the flow of traffic.
John stood there for another two minutes, dumbfounded: an antique granny with a foul mouth and armed to the teeth, could pierce him in one careless move. Cursing everything in the world, on stiff legs he went to his still flashing car and collapsed in the driver’s seat. It hadn’t been an easy day, but this dangerous old woman had finished him off completely.
It was a long journey home, and John could not recover from the shock of his experience. It happened to him for the first time in fifteen years of impeccable service in the traffic police.