Cop Hex

I think a police officer put some kind of curse (or hex? I like the word "hex") on me today. Pulling out of my office building's sidestreet onto the main road is usually challenging: a left turn is required, and there is usually a buildup of traffic in the lanes I am trying to get into. I have learned that one must be unusually aggressive and pull out into the road when no one is coming from the left, even if the traffic coming from the right is all jammed up at the light (meaning, I am pulling out, blocking traffic from the left, establishing my position and saying to the folks coming from the right "you see here, you must let me in, or we will all be fucked because my ass sticking out into these other lanes will cause a big accident and you'll be sorry.")

So anyway, I don't know if it's necessarily illegal to do this, but it has to be done if one is going to EVER get the hell away from the office. Traffic at the nearby intersection is a nightmare. Today at lunch I pulled the move in typical fashion. Mind you, I only do it when traffic from the left is stopped at a nearby light, so it's timed such that as soon as traffic starts moving, someone will let me in, and I will be out of the way by the time anyone might be close to slamming into the back end of my car. At lunch time and other rush hours, there is a traffic cop stationed at the intersection on the corner. Apparently he saw my move, for as I drove by the intersection, he extended his arm at me and pointed. Just pointed. And follwed my car with his pointy hand for as long as I looked at him, which felt like forever. Just long enough for a hex. I'll let you know of any ill effects.