Cheese It, The Cops!

So I'm driving home today. From work. Where I go now. Every weekday. Bastards...
   Anyway, I'm driving home, going through Koreatown and hitting every damn light, when I see a black-and-white on a side street. He pulled out and got in line behind me. I'm not doing anything suspicious, and Lord knows there's absolutely no chance to speed through Koreatown with a red light every 100 yards or so, but I still sat up straighter, put my hands at 10 and 2, and kept a safe distance between my truck and the car in front of me.
   Let me repeat: I was doing nothing wrong in the least, and yet I shaped up when I saw the cop.
   They've got me conditioned like one of Pavlov's dogs. Maybe it's because I've been watching COPS for the past 20 years. See a cop, start behaving, even if you're not misbehaving at the moment.
   What the hell? Maybe if I was swigging from a quart of cheap tequila, or had just picked up the skankiest hooker I could find, or happened to be carrying a truck load of illegal immigrants (my truck seats 5 with room in the cargo area to stack a few more) then maybe, just maybe I'd need to be careful. But I was doing none of those things - as far as you know - and had nothing to fear from any officer of the law. I was being a perfectly law-abiding citizen.
   And get this: when the cop finally turned off I actually sighed and relaxed. Slouched, even. Like I'd gotten away with something.
   Obviously I need more excitement in my life. Maybe the next time I see a cop I'll give him the finger. That'll be exciting, don't you think?