Preface: I am in the process of taking my Cayman from Colorado to New Jersey, just stopping a long the way to visit friends and family.
Cruising in between Terre Haute and Vincenes I was following a new Eclispe 74 in a 55 and had a truck running behind me. Anyways a sheriff popped by going the other direction and the Eclipse slowed to around, and I slowed to match before popping into the fast lane. As soon as I got over I seen the sheriff in my rear view and of course said the nice *expletive deleted* in response. Of course he didn't slow down and proceeded to attempt to bury his headlights in my spoiler. Which in response I sped up to get around the Eclispe and in the slow lane and naturally he swooped over and lighted me.
He pops out and comes up on my passenger side, "Do you know how fast you were going?"
"65?"
"How about before that?"
"You mean when I was following that other car?"
"Yeah, the red one."
I think to myself "D%^K", but instead say "67?"
He just stands up, goes back to his car with my info, and returns 15 seconds later on the other side. "Can you please get out of the car sir?"
"Excuse me?"
"Can you please get out of the car and sit in my car while I take your info?"
"Uhm, that's unusual but ok."
As I am sitting in my car the chaser patrol car's officer gets out and proceeds to walk around my car, sticking his head in my windows while the other guy is giving me the n'th degree.
"Where are you going?" , "Where do you work?", "What do you mean you don't work?", "What did you do for work before you quit?", "How can you afford this car?", "When did you leave Colorado?"
During this time the other guy walks up...
"How much did you pay for that car?"
Of course I didn't tell him. I wasn't being uncooperative but last time I checked this is a traffic stop, do people driving a Camary get the same treatment? Just give me my damn ticket so I can get on with my business. It became obvious that they were trying to develop a case to search my car. I was asked "When did you leave Colorado?" at least five separate times, giving the same answer every time.
Finally ticket in hand the let me out of the Patrol car and say "Where do you put your luggage in that thing?"
"Ohh the front and the back." Excited about talking about the Cayman and not my financial information I explained how the car was mid-engined and it has a boot and a trunk, yadda, yadda, ya...
"I'd like to see that."
"Sure!" I had let my excitement about the car get in the way of common sense and realize it right after saying it. Though having nothing to hide I pop the trunk open, sleeping bag and some other nonsense, close it up and walk around to the front, *pop*, (F me I say to myself), there sits the Cali tags that were on the car when I bought it.
"What are those?"
"License plates." haha, I had to say it.
"For what?"
"This car, bought it in Cali, these were the ones on the car when I bought it."
His eye brows go up, flips the plates over and calls them in... now I am stuck for another 5 minutes while dispatch runs the numbers. Naturally all was clear and I was sent on my way where I promptly sped off. Not learning from my mistakes they quickly catch up with me speeding again and ride next to me until I slow down.
All that being said 60 minutes of my life was stolen because I am young, sometimes sarcastic, can't obey the speed limits, and over suspicious cops in small town American. I think if I was a cop I would be more suspicious of a guy creeping along in an Ols' 88 verse speeding in a flashy sports car.
Just thought I would write up my stupidity combined with their wanton desire to develop some type of probable cause to dry hump my car for drugs. I got off with a 64/55 opposed to the 74 they clocked "me" at. I promptly threw away the Cali plates when I got to my next destination and kicked my feet up with a drink to relay my days exploits.
Tom
Brain Fart
Linear Mode
