Copper-Copper, Pulled Over by the Crime-Stopper

The Setting: Last night. Boyfriend and I driving to friend's house:

On an open stretch of highway where everyone drives as though they were on the Central-California stretch of the I-5, Lex was in good company driving at 85. Few exits down, I merge onto a main freeway where traffic is heavier. Glance at speedometer reads 80. Begin slowing. Recognizing my exit sign, hit the blinker and hop into the right lane.

BLAM: Blaze of blue and red floods my mirrors. I pull over. Not good.

Cop: Head leaning through passenger window over Boyfriend's shoulder. Death stare searches for signs of intoxication. I mentally prepare backwards alphabet recitation and the explanation for my planned refusal to allow a search. "License and registration please."
Lex: Silently hand over the documents. Wonder why I am in this situation. I'm white. White people never get pulled over around here.
Cop: "You know how fast you were going?"
Lex: Internal debate about whether to go with truthful humility or claimed ignorance. Opt for honesty. The fuzz like it when their presence has the effect of truth serum. Fake appearance of concern and shame. "Um.... 75?"
Cop: "And what is the speed-limit?"
Lex: Condescending asshole. "Um... 65?" Squinch face attempting to resemble a child who knows he's in trouble and wishes for nothing more than to turn back time and undo evil deeds.
Cop: "So... that's speeding, isn't it? And you were going 78."
Lex: Feigned surprise. "My goodness, was I really? I am so sorry."
Cop: "One moment mam." Walks back to his mobile mini-jail.

Eternity.

Cop: "Mam, I'm going to go ahead and give you a warning this time."
Lex: "Oh, thank you so much officer, I'm so sorry."
Cop: "And, you were actually going 79. And swerving in and out of traffic."
Lex: Bullshit, I just got into my exit lane, dickface. Head nod. "I am so sorry, officer."
Cop: "Put on your blinker, speed up in the side lane and merge safely back into traffic. Stay at the speed limit from now on."
Lex: "Yes. Oh, yes. I'm sorry. Thank you so much." I got back on the highway and found myself at 70 before even looking at the speedometer. I slowed to 65 and noticed my hands shaking.

The whole thing freaked me the fuck out. As previously noted, I have a cop complex. This is the fault of my parents, the abundance of their illegal activities and my childhood associations of police and pure evil. The adrenaline of the whole thing had me up until 1:00am. And for what? A stupid warning! I hate cops. I set my car to 65 cruise-control on the way home. This is the first time I have been pulled over since the State of California made the mistake of granting me a driver's license.

I get tailed a lot. I may need to remove my Berkeley Boalt Hall plate frame. I think it reads to police something along the lines of "I think I know, and am therefore above, all law and its petty enforcement officers." Which, of course, I totally do (and am).


Completely Unrelated Music Recommendation:

Last night, I also lost a Favors Bet with Boyfriend after debating the lyrics to Move! from Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley's "Welcome to Jamrock. Kicks Ass. Check it out.