I’ve been thinking that if I had diplomatic immunity, life would be pretty great.

Lethal Weapon 2’s Arjen Rudd, the corrupt South African politician who smuggled Krugerrand into America, used it all the time. To cut in line at the grocery store. To avoid paying tickets. For discounts at Little Caesar’s. Alas, eventually, his privileges were revoked. Unexpectedly, and some might say unfairly–without due process, bare minimum. Still, he had a pretty good run.

Like Rudd, if I had diplomatic immunity, I would carry my authorizations in my wallet so that I could flash proof whenever necessary.

“Hey Matt, mind grabbing me a soda if you stop by 7-11?”

“You know, I would, but diplomatic immunity.” Bam. That’s when I’d unleash my credentials and walk away without another word.

“Papa, what’s for dinner?”

“Diplomatic immunity, that’s what. Table for one.”

Inevitably, Murtaugh and Riggs would come for me, but in the interim, what a life, right?

Anyway, this is my first post in weeks. Feels pretty appropriate.