Once when I was seventeen, I went to visit my dad. I hadn't seen him in months and wasn't sure when I'd get to see him again. I only had this one weekend to spend with him, but he was busy and we ended up only having one day to spend together. He decided that he would take me to see a movie, something we did rarely when he and my mom were still married, and it was always a big deal.
I can't properly explain how excited this made me. I had memories of him taking me when I was a little girl so the idea that he would again, as silly as it was, made me feel all giddy inside.
All day I waited for him to get off work and spent my time getting ready. I got all dressed up, and could barely contain my joy at spending some time with him as he got ready. Finally, we were ready to go. He started the car and it became impossible to erase the stupid grin off my face, then his cell phone rang and he answered it.
Anyway, I was violently distraught. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Well, just because he changed his mind didn't mean I changed mine. I was all dressed up and I was going to see a movie with or without him!
So, I jumped in my car, cranked up the music--most likely the Eurythmics Here comes the rain again--and sped down the side streets, pressing the pedal as far as it would go, and then abruptly stopping at the stop sign. Then speeding off again only to skid the brakes at the next one.
As I recall, there were approximately seven stop signs from my dads house to Block Buster--my plan B since I was clearly in no state to appear in a theater; a video at home would have to do). I hit the gas going sixty and the tires screeched, mimicking the sound I imagined my heart would make if it could voice it's pain, as I skid to a stop at each stop sign.
By the fifth one-- after I'm sure I had alerted the entire neighborhood for 10 blocks around to my reaction of the betrayal done me--I completely ignored the next two signs and blew right through them. The last of which opened out onto a four lane street.
So, I blew through the stop sign going 60 MPH, hopping the curb as I went, then failed to negotiate the white Lincoln Continental I was driving into a turn and careened over the median into the opposite lane, squealed the tires as I swerved back over the median into my own lane and fishtailed between the two lanes until I could get the car back under control. Still distraught and livid and not really caring how reckless I had been-- afterrall I had been done an injustice of the foulest kind!
Next thing I knew, I heard the Rwwear of sirens and saw the strobe of red and blue lights as a cop car appeared behind me. I immediately pulled over.
Now, I need to explain exactly what this car is like so you can get an adequate idea of what this officer was expecting. In case you didn't know, a Lincoln Continental is a pimp mobile. My pimp mobile was all white, with the leather pimp topper, blacked out windows--which are illegal in Florida-- and the gangster bounce.
When I say bounce I don't mean just a nod to you mother from having no shocks. I mean the thing tried to clear air beneath it like the asphalt were a trampoline and it had aspirations of being a 7-47! So, I'm positive that the officer was certain there were a whole gang of drug dealers in this pimp mobile--which would explain the shocked look on his face when I rolled down the window and he saw that instead a car full of gangsters there was just one girl, with a bow in her hair and tears streaming black mascara down her face.
He actually had to step back form the window and compose himself after he saw me. Then, trying his best not to laugh out loud asked, "Ma'am, you know why I pulled you over." (Note that he was so taken back by what he was seeing that he totally neglected to ask for my license and registration.)
Me with a whine of tears in my voice and a furrow in my brow said, "Yes."
He was tall, but I could see from the way his muscles tensed and his stance straightened that he thought I had been abused by someone. His tone became serious, "Are you alright ma'am?"
Me with all the maturity of a five year old who just got her toy taken away and wanting everyone to know just how upset she is about it said, "No!"
I glanced up for a moment and saw he was handsome and youngish--not the typical gruff, creepy, old cop, I'd expected from watching Dukes of Hazzard and Porky's. The look on his face was angelic--okay, it may have been the moon shining on his blonde hair mixed with the adrenaline running through me, but I remember thinking that he was flirting with me, but I was still so mad that the surprise of his charm did little to calm me.
He then asked, "Is it your boyfriend?"
Me rather undignified and pouty said shortly, "No."
"Your husband?"
"No."
"You want to talk about it?" Lord help him he did NOT know what he was getting himself into.
"ITS MY DADDY!" I sobbed like a child.
He pressed his lips inward.
"I haven't seen him in GOD knows how long and we have ONE day together. One DAY! And we were SUPPOSED to go to the movies, but NOOO instead of spending time with me, he goes and sees his ex-WHORE for a BOOTY CALL!!!" more sobs and whines and general pitifulness.
By this time, his blue eyes were watering and he was practically biting his lip off. He pressed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, and then wiped his eyes.
After clearing his throat, he said, "Where were you headed?"
"Block Buster. I want to go see a movie."
"Okay, I'm not going to give you a ticket, but do you think you're alright to drive home?"
Meekly with sniffles I answered, "Yes."
"Okay, I'm going to follow you to Block Buster, okay?"
"Okay."
"Alright, now you be careful."
"Okay."
So, he follows me to Block Buster and its closed!!!
And that is my very first experience with getting pulled over by a cop. I'd like to thank the officer, who ever he was, for being so understanding with a hysterical teenage girl and hope that he got a lot of fun out of telling that story over and over again. Enjoy!
I can't properly explain how excited this made me. I had memories of him taking me when I was a little girl so the idea that he would again, as silly as it was, made me feel all giddy inside.
All day I waited for him to get off work and spent my time getting ready. I got all dressed up, and could barely contain my joy at spending some time with him as he got ready. Finally, we were ready to go. He started the car and it became impossible to erase the stupid grin off my face, then his cell phone rang and he answered it.
I waited patiently and as I heard his side of the conversation my grin dropped--we wouldn't be going to the movies. The reason? His ex-wife called and wanted him to stay the night with her. I'm sure I said a few choice words about him choosing her over me--she did live in town, he could see her any time. I, however, lived a few hours away and most likely wouldn't see him for an indeterminate amount of time, possibly years! Well, all my pleadings did not prevail over his desire to see her instead. I was mortified. He is probably going to be mortified that I remember this and am sharing it with you. But, C'est La vie. Its necessary to tell my story, and it's been over a decade or two so I think its legal to rehash... right Dad? Love you! :)
Anyway, I was violently distraught. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Well, just because he changed his mind didn't mean I changed mine. I was all dressed up and I was going to see a movie with or without him!
So, I jumped in my car, cranked up the music--most likely the Eurythmics Here comes the rain again--and sped down the side streets, pressing the pedal as far as it would go, and then abruptly stopping at the stop sign. Then speeding off again only to skid the brakes at the next one.
As I recall, there were approximately seven stop signs from my dads house to Block Buster--my plan B since I was clearly in no state to appear in a theater; a video at home would have to do). I hit the gas going sixty and the tires screeched, mimicking the sound I imagined my heart would make if it could voice it's pain, as I skid to a stop at each stop sign.
By the fifth one-- after I'm sure I had alerted the entire neighborhood for 10 blocks around to my reaction of the betrayal done me--I completely ignored the next two signs and blew right through them. The last of which opened out onto a four lane street.
So, I blew through the stop sign going 60 MPH, hopping the curb as I went, then failed to negotiate the white Lincoln Continental I was driving into a turn and careened over the median into the opposite lane, squealed the tires as I swerved back over the median into my own lane and fishtailed between the two lanes until I could get the car back under control. Still distraught and livid and not really caring how reckless I had been-- afterrall I had been done an injustice of the foulest kind!
Next thing I knew, I heard the Rwwear of sirens and saw the strobe of red and blue lights as a cop car appeared behind me. I immediately pulled over.
Now, I need to explain exactly what this car is like so you can get an adequate idea of what this officer was expecting. In case you didn't know, a Lincoln Continental is a pimp mobile. My pimp mobile was all white, with the leather pimp topper, blacked out windows--which are illegal in Florida-- and the gangster bounce.
When I say bounce I don't mean just a nod to you mother from having no shocks. I mean the thing tried to clear air beneath it like the asphalt were a trampoline and it had aspirations of being a 7-47! So, I'm positive that the officer was certain there were a whole gang of drug dealers in this pimp mobile--which would explain the shocked look on his face when I rolled down the window and he saw that instead a car full of gangsters there was just one girl, with a bow in her hair and tears streaming black mascara down her face.
He actually had to step back form the window and compose himself after he saw me. Then, trying his best not to laugh out loud asked, "Ma'am, you know why I pulled you over." (Note that he was so taken back by what he was seeing that he totally neglected to ask for my license and registration.)
Me with a whine of tears in my voice and a furrow in my brow said, "Yes."
He was tall, but I could see from the way his muscles tensed and his stance straightened that he thought I had been abused by someone. His tone became serious, "Are you alright ma'am?"
Me with all the maturity of a five year old who just got her toy taken away and wanting everyone to know just how upset she is about it said, "No!"
I glanced up for a moment and saw he was handsome and youngish--not the typical gruff, creepy, old cop, I'd expected from watching Dukes of Hazzard and Porky's. The look on his face was angelic--okay, it may have been the moon shining on his blonde hair mixed with the adrenaline running through me, but I remember thinking that he was flirting with me, but I was still so mad that the surprise of his charm did little to calm me.
He then asked, "Is it your boyfriend?"
Me rather undignified and pouty said shortly, "No."
"Your husband?"
"No."
"You want to talk about it?" Lord help him he did NOT know what he was getting himself into.
"ITS MY DADDY!" I sobbed like a child.
He pressed his lips inward.
"I haven't seen him in GOD knows how long and we have ONE day together. One DAY! And we were SUPPOSED to go to the movies, but NOOO instead of spending time with me, he goes and sees his ex-WHORE for a BOOTY CALL!!!" more sobs and whines and general pitifulness.
By this time, his blue eyes were watering and he was practically biting his lip off. He pressed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, and then wiped his eyes.
After clearing his throat, he said, "Where were you headed?"
"Block Buster. I want to go see a movie."
"Okay, I'm not going to give you a ticket, but do you think you're alright to drive home?"
Meekly with sniffles I answered, "Yes."
"Okay, I'm going to follow you to Block Buster, okay?"
"Okay."
"Alright, now you be careful."
"Okay."
So, he follows me to Block Buster and its closed!!!
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