A Good Year for the Outlaw

So I’m heading North on an Illinois State Route last night (that shall remain nameless as to not get me harassed) and the vehicle – an SUV as judging by the height of the headlights – coming towards me has what appear to be very bright headlights shining at me. So I flick the oncoming vehicle my bright lights, and instead of either dimming his, or showing me that he was already on dim by flicking his brights back at me, I get a brief flash of his “rollers” on the roof of his now-apparent-to-me law enforcement vehicle.

Wait a minute.

So I bright you, and you turn on your rollers for a sec? What does that mean?

It was either:

“Don’t you dare bright me, I’m a law enforcement official and I know full well how to dim my lights, and they’re already on dim.”
or
“Don’t flick your brights at me, I’m a law enforcement official who can drive with my brights on whenever I want to.”
or
“Oh, crap, my brights are on, let me dim them, oh crap, I hit the wrong button and my rollers went on, and oh, crap, I’m so confused.”

Well, let’s rule out #3, because law enforcement officials are not usually incompetent in their vehicles, quite the opposite. Arrogant sometimes? Sure. But not incompetent.

So that leaves either option one or option two. Neither which I’m a big fan of. Either way, he (she) never did show me whether I was being blinded by bright lights or by poorly pointed dim lights.