I had been home just 17 hours, was venturing out for the first time and had only driven a few hundred yards when I was stopped by the police. This happens to me at an improbable frequency; today was the seventh time since I began driving about a year ago. (My husband has never been pulled over.) I'm starting to think the cops, bored of standing in the smog, directing traffic and harassing taxi-tigi, keep an eye out for toubab spouses they can have some fun with.

Officer Friendly wanted to see my license, which he looked at rather idly. Then he looked at my inspection sticker and I sent a huge telepathic thank you to my husband, who, after the last time I was pulled overand had to pay a bribe, got the car's paperwork up to date. I was good to go. Then the cop said something that surprised me:

"Are you for Bush or Kerry?"

At first I thought he was asking me if I was from the bush, but in French it's brousse, and he definitely said bush. As I repeated his question dumbly back to him I realized what he was asking and -- quick! -- tried to guess the right answer.

"Kerry," I said, biting my tongue to keep myself from adding, of course.

He wanted to know why, and I stalled by asking him who he prefers. He surprised me again by saying Bush. "Sa politique me plait," he grinned, and asked again why I prefer Kerry. I don't like the war in Iraq, I finally offered. He shrugged and smiled and waved me on my way.

Who will be the winner? On verra.