You Had to Be Creative

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We were driving home from work one night. Several of our teachers were following us in another car, driven by a teacher called Andy.

Suddenly a BMW zoomed up beside us. Two of its passengers were pointing at us and laughing, and so I naturally made a rude gesture. Bad decision. The BMW cut across in front of our VW and screeched to a halt, forcing us to stop. Andy pulled up behind us. Five uniformed policemen got out of the BMW and walked over to our car.

One of the policemen asked for my driver’s licence. Oh, dear. I’d left it at home. That meant we would have to go to the police station and spend hours straightening matters out. Unless …

I nonchalantly handed the policeman my work permit. “What’s this?” he asked. “It’s my driver’s licence,” I replied. “It doesn’t look like a driver’s license.” I was ready for this reaction. “That’s because I’m a foreigner. We get different licenses. This is a driver's licence for foreigners. It's issued by the Ministry of Labour.” I crossed my fingers.

After consulting with his colleagues, he handed me back my permit and told us we could go. Then he walked back to Andy’s car. I waited so that we could all drive on together.

The policeman asked Andy for his driver's license and Andy produced it. “No, no, I want your driver’s license,” said the policeman. “That is my driver’s license,” Andy answered. The policeman shook his head. “This is not valid, because you are a foreigner.” He pointed to our car. “You must have a license for foreigners, like Mr. Jeffrey has.”

Unfortunately, Andy didn’t have his work permit with him.

As the policeman looked on, I gave Andy a long lecture about the importance of always carrying the correct documentation. Then the policeman agreed to let him off with just a warning.