Jarrod knew trouble when it was coming. The young lady marching out of the silver Intrepid looked like she thought she owned the world. She glared inside the car for a minute and managed forced words out of her tightly clenched mouth.
"Let me see your driver's license and registration please," she grumbled.
"You're not the police, so I don't have to show you anything," snickered Jarrod. She started babbling some spiel about work, and Jarrod stopped listening. He mumbled some responses, but he already decided this snot was not worth the trouble.
When the police arrived, the old "Rod is God" arrogance was beginning to reassert itself in Jarrod's psyche. After the woman delivered her tirade about the incident, the policeman turned to Jarrod.
"And what do you have to say to that, sir?" the policeman asked.
"Well, officer, the lady hit me as I was trying to pass her, and I'm not really sure what she is mad about," Jarrod replied. "She pulled out without any signal at all."
"Say son, aren't you Jarrod Williamson that used to play for the Cubs?" asked the policeman.
Jarrod knew his problems were solved. Talk baseball to this guy, and that ticket becomes the property of Miss Priss.
"Why yes, officer, that's me," he replied.
"What was it like hitting against Greg Maddux?" asked the officer. He was almost drooling over Jarrod now.
"Well, buddy, Maddux was pretty tough, but let me tell you about this one game in Atlanta..." started "The Phenom."
"Being a baseball star has its advantages," Rod thought. He gave a mocking
thumbs-up to