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Friday is getting off to a great start so far.

I’m in the second-to-left lane of 101, passing the Dumbarton bridge exit on
my way south, when a 1-occupant SUV comes up on my left (in the carpool
lane, natch) and zips into my lane in front of me. (Of course, my lane is
going much slower, so he has to brake a bit, and the free-spinning
propeller mounted to his rear bumper is still going around and around from
its carpool-lane angular momentum. But I digress.)

I notice that we’re just passing a CHP officer on a motorcycle, sitting
in the left-hand shoulder, presumably as a carpool-violation trap. At first
blush, it seems like he hasn’t noticed this guy, but as we pass I observe
that the officer is casually strapping his gloves on.

Now it’s obvious how this plays out. A couple of hundred feet later, the
CHP chopper appears magically out my left window, then in front of me
(behind Mr. SUV (no, I won’t tell you his license plate number)) and flips on his lights. He points:
“You. Over there.”

And justice is done.