The Blonde Traffic Stop
One sunny afternoon, a blonde woman was zooming down the highway in her shiny red sports car, the wind whipping through her hair as her favorite pop song blasted on the radio. She was in such a hurry that she didn’t notice the speed limit signs—or the police cruiser tucked discreetly behind a billboard.
Suddenly, flashing red and blue lights filled her rearview mirror. “Oh no!” she gasped, slowing down and pulling over to the shoulder.
A moment later, a tall, confident blonde police officer strode up to her window. The driver rolled it down nervously.
“Ma’am, do you have any idea how fast you were going?” the officer asked, adjusting her sunglasses.
The driver blinked. “Um… fast enough to get where I’m going on time?”
The cop sighed. “License and registration, please.”
The blonde driver nodded and immediately began rummaging through her oversized purse. She dug past lipsticks, loose receipts, a half-eaten granola bar, and three different hairbrushes, growing more frustrated by the second.
“Ugh, where is it?!” she muttered, tossing a pack of gum and a handful of bobby pins onto the passenger seat.
The policewoman crossed her arms. “Having trouble?”
“What does it even look like?” the driver finally asked in exasperation.
The blonde cop smirked. “Well, it’s square… and it has your picture on it.”
“Ooooh!” The driver’s eyes lit up. She dove back into her purse with renewed determination and—after a few more seconds of frantic searching—pulled out a small, square compact mirror. She stared at her reflection, nodded in satisfaction, and proudly handed it to the officer.
The policewoman took the mirror, looked at it, and then burst out laughing. “Oh wow… you’re even blonder than I am!”
The driver grinned. “Does this mean I get a warning?”
The cop shook her head, still chuckling. “Nice try. But I do have a coupon for half off at the salon down the road. Maybe we both should book an appointment.”
And with that, she handed the driver a speeding ticket… along with the coupon.
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