KEEGO HARBOR, Mich. — I knew it was over the second I passed him doing at least 20 mph over. His police cruiser was partially hidden around a bend in the only road that led into town. I had seen him there before, itching to bust anyone driving too fast into his tiny, 1-square-mile fiefdom. I just made his day.

I don’t know why I thought I could outrun him. Maybe it was the abundance of “fuck it” I carried around just for such circumstances, but that’s the decision I made. I hit the gas.

Upon reflection, I must’ve figured that if I put enough space between me and the assuredly grinning cop who was bearing down on me, parked, and then walked into work before he caught up, I’d be safe.

It doesn’t work that way. I know that now.

In my defense, I was young, stupid, running late for work, and a little bit high.

I was in cuffs before I crossed the parking lot. I didn’t even have the sense to leave my brand new glass pipe (a Christmas gift from my supervisor) in the car. He found it on me right away, and he could not have been more pleased.

I’m Keith Brown, maker of poor decisions and the world’s worst police car out-runner.

I cannot help you get away from the police, nor can I help you build stuff. A tool in my hand has a better than 50 percent chance of poking out my eye.

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