The latest brush...

In two weeks we drove 850 miles around Ireland without any hassle from the gardaí. Ten metres from safety the fuckers pulled me in. Blue lights flashing behind me. Just ten metres from safety!
"How are you. Can I see you licence please?" your man said when I rolled down the window.
I couldn't believe it. Of course, I hadn't my licence with me.
"No. You can't actually. I haven't got it with me," I replied with resignation.
"Where is it?"
"At home."
I sat there while he went to look at the tax, insurance and NCT. Everything out of date since June the year before.
"You know your insurance is out of date?" he said when he came back.
"Yeah, I know. But it's insured. I just haven't got the disc yet."
I explained the car been off the road up to two weeks previously, when I bought insurance and booked an NCT. I hadn't been in the country long enough to receive confirming documents. I produced a form stamped by his colleagues to confirm the car had been off the road and thus not liable for tax.
Of course, it was liable for tax from the time I put it back on the road, but I just hadn't a chance to post the damn form to the tax office. Too much fun and diversion to be had.
"Even if the car was off the road, you know the car is liable for tax now that it's back on the road?" said Mr. State the Feckin' Obvious.
"Yes, yes, I know. I just have to send the form," I replied. "I'm actually bringing the car back off the road now, this minute! I've to send off the form, but you can see it's all filled out and ready to go."
He demanded that I produce proof of insurance, my licence, and the NCT booking at a garda station of my choice, and gave me another lecture about driving without tax. Yeah, yeah. I thanked him for sticking his unwelcome nose in my business and drove poor ol' Derval - the innocent victim in all of this - back to her resting place from where I'd picked her up two weeks before.

It was the first time in my life I'd been stopped by gardaí for no apparent reason. Maybe they were working on a tip-off. The list of possible suspects is long - all the people I've pissed off recently - anyone from Kilkenny, Kerry, Tipperary, Northern Ireland, England, Barcelona, Bavaria, the cheeseheads... Jaysus, it could have been anyone!

Your wan in the garda station took photocopies of everything. "It's now at the garda's discretion in he presses charges," she explained sweetly. "You'll just have to wait and see."
My only possible offence may be for driving without motor tax for two weeks. If Mr. Nothing-Better-To-Do decides to pursue it, it will mean a heavy fine and penalty points on my licence. Hopefully there won't be a fine though. It will save me the bother of not paying it.

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