And I thought the day would be uneventful. I just went on a client visit, where I did a great job pretending to be professional and conservative. I dropped off a coworker from another office, and not 2 minutes from the building, I notice a cop in the opposite lane pass by me and flip a bitch so that he was behind me, going the same way. I notice cops. They are nothing new to me. I've talked my way out of 5 tickets. And my ratio's not that great, so imagine how many I actually got. But 5 is still good, my powers of persuasion are magical. Anyway, the guy's behind me. I know I'm in for it.

The last two times I noticed a cop make a u-turn to get behind me, I was pulled over. This time, seat-belt on, cell phone off, I thought I was in the clear. Till I remembered the broken break light. oops. Lights, blue, red, reminds me of a rave. I pull over, roll down my window, and wait to see what kind of cop I got. There are all different kinds. Your power-trippers, your fatherly types, your homosexuals (do not joke about sex with these ones if you're a lady, take it from me), and your single guys with nothing better to do on a slow day than pull over a chic and see what her deal is.

This one fell into that last category, but I will tell you, I've had them all. He kept me there for 20 minutes. In that time, he found out the area I lived in, where I was from, what I did for a living, commented on how pretty my license picture is (this is not an exaggeration, though, the picture is one of my best accomplishments).

He said he might just stop by my house. I said, "Great, just remember to bring the gun and the handcuffs." Then, feeling overly comfortable, I said, "I'm not surprised you managed to pull me over in front of the only F Street Adult Book store in San Diego that I haven't been to."

That one took him by surprise. He said, "What would you go in there for?" I don't think he'd be able to handle any of my honest answers (e.g. dildos, vibrators, hot-licky stuff and whip-its), so I just looked up at him and with a straight face, said, "Books."

He gave me a fix-it ticket, whoopee. Then said that I didn't have to go to the station to get it signed, I could just have him do it. "I'm sure I'll see you again, Barb." The fact that I have my name on my license plate would make it very easy for him to find me. And that he now knows where I work and live. Actually, that's kind of exciting. Cop banging down your door, not to bust you for all of your city-sins, but rather..... heh heh. Well, I can just imagine the rest.

I gave him a wink and came very close to peeling out. By the time I got on the freeway, there were 5 cars between us. Another run-in with the law. I'm such a rebel.

-Barbarella

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