Yesterday
Pungo road. C a l i f o r n i a rolling stop.
Flashing lights in my rearview mirror.
My hands tighten over the stirring wheel.
I find myself pushing in my brake and putting my car in park.
My mind reeling.
"License and registration, ma'am." said the cop in aviator sunglasses with a southern drawl.
I nervously fished through my purse for my wallet.
Then the officer kindly asked me if my address was correct on the licence,
Crap. I moved a year ago and its still my Pine Ridge address. "Umm no, sir, I moved"
Then the expected question came, "How long ago was it when you moved?"
I wished I could of lied and said oooh last week, sorry sir! "Uh, um a year ago."
I looked nervously at my fingernails.
He took my registration and went into his car for what can be assumed as an eternity.
Nikki and I started to panic, but then miraculously our paranoia transformed into jokes.
And there we were laughing in spite of the awful situation at hand.
The cop sauntered back over to my window and took a deep breath.
Meanwhile, I struggled for a simple breath.
"Um, sir, I'm really nervous. I've, um, been driving for almost two years and I've never been pulled over before." I found myself saying quickly.
"I'm gunna tell ya three things." said the officer in an authoritative manner.
He began a long speel about my faulty address on my licence, the rolling stop, and an item hanging on my rearview mirrow.
And it concluded with a mere warning! No ticket, thank goodness.
But, man, was I terrified driving the rest of the way home. I stopped for about two minutes at each stop sign.