Unfortunately, she had woken up feeling flushed and nauseated this particular day. Knowing that a) the bank opened a couple hours earlier than most, and b) if she called anyone to sub for her that early in the morning, she might lose the luxury of having air in her tires at the end of the workday, she decided she could at least open the bank and then go home to get well.
She drove up to the lot, rushed in, looked around, and didn't see anyone. Growing sicker by the moment, she hurriedly gave the all-clear signal to the tellers. Unfortunately, she forgot one little procedure--disarming the alarm.
The tellers came in and Diane bustled out the door. Meanwhile, the police had taken their place behind a building. Diane--in old jeans and an old shirt and carrying her oversized purse which evidently looked like a suitable one for robbing banks--jumped into her older-model van and sped away.
The police immediately tailed her and turned on their lights. She reluctantly pulled on the side of the road. At the exact same moment her son happened to pass by on the school bus, saw her getting pulled over, and called on his cell phone. She reached into her purse to answer the phone just as the police officers began to get out of their vehicle. Thinking Diane was reaching for a firearm and believing she had just robbed a bank, the policemen drew their weapons and ordered, "Drop your weapon, raise both hands, get out slowly, and step away from the vehicle."
Pale-faced and shaking, she dropped the phone and complied with the requests. One officer approached, gun in hand, while the other one backed him up. Diane began explaining with her hands in the air as he got closer. Beads of sweat accumulated on her forehead, which the officer to as a sure sign of lying. As he stepped right in front of her to question her further, Diane, unable to hold her sickness at bay any longer, summarily threw up all over the policeman.
Obviously, some bad days are worse than others. Sometimes you spill your coffee in the car; other times you are falsely accused of grand larceny and deface the uniform of one of the city's finest. But all bad days have one thing in common: They only last twenty-four hours.
(This is from https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19579203-the-bad-hair-day-book?from_search=true A mini story by Jerry lane.)
