Darla

I was walking home from coaching a soccer camp this past August. It was a long walk, and my skin was sticking to itself from the heat. I kept looking in the cars as they drove by on 20th street, hoping maybe I'd know someone and they could give me a ride home before I melted. I kept looking, kept looking..nobody.

Suddenly, a cop drove by. My immediate thought was, Oo!! Maybe he'll give me a ride home! So, naturally, I stared him down the entire time he was driving by. We made eye contact the whole time. After he'd passed me, he suddenly whips his car around and pulls up right next to me on the side of the road. Oh, maybe he is going to give me a ride home, I happily thought. He opens his door, stands up, and looking over the top of his car says, "Darla?"

And I, thinking he said darling, responded with, "Yes?"

"Wait, you are Darla?" He says, suddenly frenzied. "Stay right where you are."

I started stuttering as he came cautiously around the front of his car. "Wait, uh I.." I stammered, "Wha..what?"

"I'm gonna need to see some identification," he demanded.

"I..wha..I don't have any.." I replied, nervous and confused about why he was so intense and wanting to see my I.D.

"Well," he said, "if you don't have any then I'm gonna hafta take you in."

"What?!" I squeaked, "Wha..why?" I searched frantically through my coaching notebook and showed him my name. "That's me," I said, "Carly. Not Darla, who's Darla? I'm Carr-leee."

"Well," he said, "you're Darla." Trying desperately to convince him I wasn't this Darla person he was searching for, he told me who she was: "We've had an escapee from the mental institution up the road and she was blonde with dark running shorts and a pink tank top."

He radioed in the name I gave him and my birthdate and whatnot. Meanwhile, I looked down: Dark green running shorts, coral tank top..blonde hair.....Oh, no wonder he thinks it's me! Looked up and laughed so hard right in this poor officer's face. I mean, no wonder he thought I was mental Darla; I responded to the name Darla, acted all stuttery after that, had no I.D., and then laughed hysterically in his face!

"Ma'am," he said, angrily, "this is not a laughing matter."

He reached for his cuffs as I tried to point out the coincidence: "Sir, I'm sorry," I spat out between laughs, "this is just too funny! I mean really, I'm not Darla, this is just a huge coincidence!"

I thought he was going to put me in cuffs and take me in right then and there, but then his radio told him it wasn't me and to let me go. Still laughing, I gave him a salute as he said, "Well, either you're a really good liar, or your not Darla." He turned to head to his car.

"I'M NOT DARLA!" I shouted after him in a high pitched voice.

As he drove off, I thought to myself: Oh man..he didn't even give me a ride home!