I Pulled Over a Cop
It's one of those dark evenings, the kind you get between Christmas and New Year's Day. The world is quiet, as businesses close down and people take leave to see relatives. The sky is clear, which is unusual for this time of year. Noticing this, I say to Matt: "let me show you the best view in the city" and we get into my car and drive to the top of the mountains at the base of which our town lies.
The view is glorious, and is at once beautiful and lonely, as the stars above us are dimmed by the flood of light that is the SF Bay Area nighttime.
We begin our drive down, and in the darkness listen to classic rock and wonder what will become of us, of people like us. I keep the Solara in 2nd to keep the brakes fresh-- even on a cold night, overheating your brakes is a real danger on Page Mill Road. Gradually, the slope lessens and we get closer to the city.
I notice a pair of headlights behind me, and they draw closer. I'm definitely traveling below the speed limit at 25 mph on a 35 mph road, because it's dark and steep and not a good time to be driving at the speed limit. The guy pulls up right behind me. He drives closer, clearly irritated and my low speed. Of course, he could try to pass me on the left, but it's a bit dangerous to do so on a mountain road, even near the bottom of the hill. I find a turnout and pull over and let him pass, idling commenting to Matt that he was probably drunk, or in a rush, or both.
A few minutes later, there's another pair of headlights behind me. As before, I'm going pretty slowly, so the car (this time it's a jeep or SUV judging by the height of the lights) closes the gap pretty quickly. This guy's leaving a bit more distance, but he definitely wants to pass, so I pull over. Interestingly, he pulls over as well, and turns on his lights. His police lights.
;_;
The police officer walks up to my car, and I roll down the window. He's all like "so, uh, why did you pull over?" and I say "well, it's pretty late and sometimes people want to pass or are tailgating, so I pull over when someone pulls up behind me" and he seems pretty satisfied with the answer.
This is my first time getting pulled over (or pulling a cop over, as it were) so I'm pretty nervous. However, I don't want to look nervous cause then he might write me a ticket or delay me more or something, so I try to focus really hard on NOT looking nervous, but that might look suspicious or nervous, so I try really really hard to act relaxed, BUT NOT TOO RELAXED cause I don't want to look drunk, or anything, I just gotta act like I got nothing to worry about. >.>
"Is this your car?" he asks. Matt, for some reason that's utterly beyond me, decides to answer for me: "yes, it's his car." This would be an okay response, but Matt's a fucking idiot. See, the problem is that the car is not mine, it's my parents' car-- and last time I heard, lying to a cop could get you in serious shit. I immediately correct him, "No, it's my mom's car" and give Matt the strongest death glare I can muster.
The officer continues, "so why are you driving in the hills?" and I say, "well, we were driving up to the overlook to check out the city lights". He nods and asks, "was it your first time up there?" and Matt in his infinite stupidity decides it's the perfect time to open his goddamn mouth and say "Yes" at the same time as I'm replying "No" and it's like one of those fucking sitcoms. Matt opens his dumb mouth again but I quickly cut him off and explain: "well, it was his first time, not mine" and the officer gives me a weird look.
I'm possessed by a sudden urge to assert my heterosexuality and tell the officer we're not gay.
The officer asks me for my license and registration, which I swiftly garnish. He takes them back to his car and I assume checks them to make sure they're not fake or whatever. After a minute that takes an hour, he brings my credentials back to me and says "have a safe night, folks". He drives off, probably laughing at how dumb we are.
I punch Matt in the arm. Hard.
"Goddamnit man, why can't you just let me do the talking?" I ask.
"Cause you're a stuttering moron. You're lucky I chipped in when I did," he replies.
"And you're lucky I'm not leaving you here to walk back."
I pull back onto the road and we go home.