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On my way to the office, I stopped by Quiapo to buy new porn titles for later that night. I placed the DVD-Xs in the passenger’s seat and drove off. While I was cruising along Taft Avenue, a police officer pulled me over for a traffic violation. My offense: beating the red light. “Lisensiya mo,” he demanded. So I gave him my license and waited for him to start writing me a ticket. Then, oddly enough, he looked at me straight in the eye for what seemed like a hundred years without saying a word. Then he hinted he was open for negotiations when he said, “Tsk! Tsk! P2,000 rin tubos nito, may seminar pa!” “Ganoon po ba? Sige po,” I replied. “Teka! Hindi pa ako tapos, buong araw ang seminar niyan, ikaw magpapa-schedule. Ang laking abala nito. Tsk! Tsk! Ano, titiketan na kita?” I knew what he was getting at but the thing was the only money I had was P17. When I gave him a go to write me the ticket, he appealed and said, “Ano, wala ka ba riyan?” So I said, “Wala po talaga akong pera sir, pasensiya na. Ticket na lang po.” That’s when his eyes wandered around my car, spotting the X-rated DVDs. “Sige, yan na lang DVD. Puwede na yan!” So I handed them to him and drove away—devoid of what could’ve been a very entertaining night.