Pulled over

I was coming back from NJ on Thanksgiving night. On the highway near my college, there's a point where you have to make a relatively sharp left turn and the speed limit inconspicuously drops to 35 from 65. It continues in curvy fashion until you hit a three-way intersection, where you'd make a left onto the mountain road that lead to my campus and the apartments near it. It was 4 AM or so, and the drive was four hours deep with about twenty minutes to go when I got to this point. I was cruise-controlling at 65 on the highway, and when I hit the initial turn, I just turned it off and slowed up until I hit the traffic light. Lights go on behind my car and scare the bejeezus out of me - I make the left and pull over only for an unmarked car and two cruisers to surround me, lights, sirens, the whole deal. A little surprised, I fished out my license and registration and just lay my hands on top of the steering wheel. I remember noting that the officer walking up to my window appeared to be the douchiest douche to walk the earth, and he was definitely notably pissed off.

He collects my license and registration, flashlight right in my eyes (worst part, imo - I decided while brooding over this encounter I would simply stop looking cops in the face), etc, takes very little time checking me out in his car, only to come back and announce that I was underage (like I didn't know) and that I was driving like I was drunk (orly?). Luckily, my parents have always had a stiff rule against me drinking wine over holiday dinners.

I emerge from my car, and captain male-pattern-balding only gets more angry as I pass the field sobriety test, despite being chubby and from New Jersey, in front of he and the other four cops. His Saiyan rage hits a zenith once I blow a 0.000000000000000000000000000000 with the breathalyzer - he angrily jots down a speeding ticket, citing the detection method as 'pacing', meaning he supposedly followed me at a set speed above the limit for a certain amount of time, and actually scribbled out the number he had chosen to lie with twice. It was about 5 AM at this point, and I was pissed, so I clicked my tongue upon receiving said ticket, following that up with a 'Happy Thanksgiving, I guess.' His response was to write another ticket for reckless driving, citing that I was going beyond 20 over the speed limit (different than the speeding ticket, btw), and then offered to make them both 'go away' if I vice'd on the people who sold weed in my apartment complex. I told him truthfully I wasn't involved with that shit, but he just shrugged and uttered a foreboding 'Your loss.' When I went to court to contest the ticket, the officer didn't even show - both got dismissed. My assumption in hindsight is they were fishing for holiday drunks and got no one all night, leaving my juicy ass was one of their last chances, hence the three-car-circus.

Encounter-in-PA number two is much more brief. I was traveling up that mountain road I mentioned before, just in a pissy mood in the middle of the night with no one around, so I was driving carelessly with the music on blast. About halfway up the road, there's a five-way intersection, and if you're heading up from the highway, you don't have a stop sign. Given the generally abandoned nature of the road, I just gunned it before this intersection. I was at about 70 before going through, and right after the intersection is a sharp-ass turn, so I moved onto the opposite side of the road to allow my car the proper room to make the corner. I wasn't the only person in audience of my brazen maneuvering, however - about two miles up the road, a cop finally catches up to me and pulls me over. He was actually -really- kind, and I guess I looked really dejected, because as soon as he confirmed I wasn't inebriated, he went on to caution me with "Did you have a bad night, kid? You really shouldn't drive like that. You go off the road, no one'll notice you're in trouble up here," etc. He wound up letting me off with a warning and good wishes, though he didn't stop following me until I pulled into my apartment complex, heh.

Third encounter in PA is notable because it was some of the most flagrant bullshit that's ever been thrown my way ever about anything and every girlfriend I've ever had has been a cheating whore so I think my bullshit credentials are way in order. After a long night of autumn gaming, my friend Ed (who is also a nerdballer) and I decided some fresh air was in order. We hopped in my 1995 Benz pimptransport and went for a drive around this lake near our college - the lake community is a pretty wealthy one for the most part, so appreciating the homes of the rich and the view of the lake was a nice retreat from Street Fighter's aggravating ladder. Ed, ever vigilant, is the first to notice an unmarked champagne-colored Grand Marquis start up and follow us as we passed it by just outside a harbor. "That's either a cop, or someone's going to kill us," we resolved, so I hit the cruise control at 30, five below the limit, and kept an eye in the rearview. After about four miles of this shit, we decided it was creepy enough and to test our luck. We pulled off the road that circled closest the lake and retreated into the parking lot of a friend's apartment.

After a minute, we went back out, once again enjoying the view and the homes of the vastly money-blessed. Before long, same car pulled up behind us, and this was either going to be a horror movie or an arrest. Same deal, cruise control at 30. This time, given a few more miles, the lights come up and over we're pulled. Knowing I wasn't speeding, and keeping to my policy of not looking into flashlights head-on, I calmly handed over my credentials with a 'here you are' when asked. Curious of where this was going as the cop returned, we told him we were just going for a ride around the lake and enjoying the weather when asked. Although he seemed displeased, a thorough once-over from outside left him no probable cause for a search, so he left us with a warning to 'be less suspicious'. He just jelly of the ballermobile, obv~!

The last story is going to be told in short order because I'm running out of the literary sauce right now, but it's a fun encounter nonetheless. This one starts at Wal-Mart and ends with myself, Ed and our partner in crime Jon almost going to jail. Like I said, the chain of events starts at Wal-Mart, and like many decisions made at Wal-Mart, the choice to buy a paintball gun for later shenanigans was a bad one. Even worse than that, not putting in the the trunk. Worst of all was Ed shooting another car at a four-way traffic light from my back seat. What resulted was a brief piece of evidence toward my car being totally sweet but totally incapable of turning me into Jason Bourne. The victim of Ed's shooting spree held the trump card, however - pacing us for a short while, they called the cops and had them intercept us after giving them my license plate. This time, the three-car-pin was totally applicable. Officer Smith, let's call him, hopped to our window and demanded to be told WHERE THE GUNS WERE so we TOLD HIM and then we got HAAAAAAAAAND CUFFFFFFED. For the record, know that sitting on a curb while handcuffed is a herculean effort if you're tubby.

We got sat down and Jon and I sold out Ed immediately for being a fat, dumb bastard. My car got towed and we got tossed inside separate cruisers on the way to the station, where we sat, cuffed to the bench, while Officer Smith and his comrades worked out what to charge us with. Ed got called in to be interrogated first, at which point he rapidly confessed and gave a written statement. What followed was the most bizarre interview-of-sorts I was ever a part of, wherein Jon, Ed myself sought to convince this person who we were all convinced held the future of our college education in his hands that this evening was simply a lapse of judgment and our retardation was only temporary. As he learned about us all being engineering majors, myself being a chairperson of the student council, Ed (somehow) being engaged, we worked Officer Smith into rightly believing that this stupidity would blow over. Thankfully, we only got disorderly conduct citations, but he made it quite clear that the punishment could have been far more severe. Far more bizarre was the post-interview wait that ensued as I called a girl I drank with occasionally at another local college and she picked us up, granting us idiots a ride home.

This came after a month of general shenanigans - clubbing mailboxes with baseball bats, experimenting with pyrotechnics and other hillbilly dumb shit and being arrested quite promptly brought an end to any further silliness. Needless to say, Ed took care of the towing bill.