I had a car, so I drove. A 1985 Honda accord with over 200k miles on it isn't a high class vehicle, but it drives much faster than no car at all.
Matze was my wingman for the night. He was a German exchange student and lived with my family for the year and a party animal. I probably picked up Larry on the way, too.
The party was tame for him! There was nothing illegal about it. TJ's parents were home. There was food, music, costumes, and conversations.
The most risque thing that happened was near the end. Two girls put on an excessive amount of lipstick and gave paired kisses to decorate cheeks (Matze and I both got tagged!).
I felt pretty cool by the end of the night!
It wasn't super late when the party ended (Parent supervised!), but I ended up with 5 or 6 people packed into my car. Matze didn't call shotgun quick enough, but he got to sit with at least one girl in the back so he didn't complain!
I had just dropped off the last lady when it happened. Matze was lazy, so he stayed in the backseat.
I pulled out of the neighborhood onto Old Keene Mill Road. The music was up. Smiles were wide. We were tried, but we were that cool.
Then some crazy person pulled up behind us.
I was 16. I started driving in June and it was October. My experience with crazy drivers was still developing. I was going 44 mph in a 40 mph zone and all I could see in my rear view mirror was a pair of hi-beams. They lit up the whole car.
Matze looked out the back window and couldn't see who it was. It had to be an SUV or something large. The lights crept closer until they were right off my bumper.
It made me nervous, but my turn was coming up. I had to make a right onto Lee Chapel. I sped up a little bit, because I wanted to go away. Pop had taught me it was ok to go 5 over (even preferable in NOVA if you didn't want people swerving around you), but I pushed it all the way up from 44 to 48 mph.
That's when the blue lights hit.
The crazy car was a cop.
I didn't stop at first, because I was too shocked. I remember feeling tricked. Trapped. Betrayed. I wouldn't have been speeding if I didn't think a crazy car was trying to run me off the road!
I did pull over. It's funny how your brain and body can act without really thinking about it. It doesn't always feel real. Pop had talked to me about what to do if I was ever pulled over, so I did it.
I was scared and confused, but hoped it was all a misunderstanding. After all, it wasn't fair! I hadn't been doing anything wrong!
I don't remember everything. I do remember the basics. I turned the car off to show I wasn't going to do something stupid. I said lots of "sirs" and had my wallet out of my pocket so I wouldn't have to reach into my clothes.
There were two policemen. They told Matze and I to get out of the car and they split us up. The cop who was talking to me pulled out a big binder that had Beavis and Butthead on the cover, but I was too numb to laugh or try to say something clever.
They were lots of questions. Where were we going? Is there anything in the car? Who was my friend? What's in the trunk? Why was he in the backseat?
I don't remember if he made me pop the trunk or not, but one question stuck with me: Why did he care Matze was in the back seat?
Then one comment seemed really important.
The cop said I looked like a chauffeur.
Not that I understood it. I was dazed, confused, and wondering "What is my dad going to do if the police call..." I did everything in my power to act calm and respectful even with my inner brain in a lurch.
I told him I sped up only, because I thought he was trying to run me off the road. I don't remember him seeming to care much.
At some point, I heard Matze yell, "WHAT!?"
The questioning stopped eventually and I walked back to stand by my car. Matze hurried over a little later and said, "Mike, they asked if I'm a PIMP!"
Suddenly, the chauffeur comment made more sense.
The bright beams and the tailgating had been to bait us. They were probably going to pull us over regardless, but anything else I did would give them ammo in the conversation.
I was lucky. I got off with a warning.
I drove home at exactly the speed limit and looking in my rear view mirror. I'm pretty sure Matze made sure to sit up front, but I wouldn't put it past him to have sat in the back to show his disdain.
Something clicked in my brain and I started to laugh. I got a look from Matze, but I explained.
Something clicked in my brain and I started to laugh. I got a look from Matze, but I explained.
Looking in the rear view mirror I realized something. I still had two big smooch marks on my cheeks from the party!
To this day, I don't know if they really thought we were a pimp and chauffeur up to trouble or they were just having their own Halloween fun at our expense. It was my first experience on the wrong side of the police.
I do think I was targeted for being young. It wasn't the last time it would happen, but 'young' is something that you grow out of. It didn't feel fair to the teenage me, but 'young' is something I do take notice of when I'm dealing with people. 'Young' and 'dumb' aren't a promise, but I know I wore both those monikers at times!
Other people have been targeted unfairly for things you can't grow out of like race and gender.
I had been taught that things would work out okay if I was honest, respectful, and prayed. And it did turn out okay for me. I was scared, but I still had some hope throughout. "Maybe they'll realize they were really wrong and not want to call or do anything else!"
I was lucky. Or you can say I was blessed. Or I was privileged that there was nothing else about me to target except that I was young.
My students at the alternative schools always liked the story of the teacher being accused of being a pimp's chauffeur!
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Connection:
I'm always amazed at how God can take one event and weave that one thread so that it intertwines with others.
My 'Pimp's chauffeur' story has served as a great answer on multiple occasions to "Have you ever been pulled over for doing nothing wrong?" Or "Has a cop ever stopped you?"
I don't believe anyone can ever understand exactly what it's like to stand in someone's else's shoes, but it's helped me relate and get a laugh.
What happened shaped how I thought in future encounters and how I tried to avoid any sort of reaction or escalation that would leave me vulnerable.
I can remember the shock, the Beavis and Butthead binder, feeling angry about being baited, and eventually feeling relieved and able to laugh about it.
And that incident started a thread that led to this post, but there was another thread that started it: My dad got a ticket.
I thought of my dad as "Mr. Perfect" growing up. He always did the right thing, knew something about everything, and never got in trouble. He liked school, got good grades, liked to work, and generally was what I was not.
Yet even he got a ticket.
I want to say it happened before my incident and was what initiated the "How to talk to Police" talk. That could be a trick of memory, though. Pop's always been super organized so he may have had "How to talk to Police" on a checklist of "What to teach Mike about driving" somewhere.
If you've lived in Northern Virginia, you know traffic can be terrible. Pop drove a red Geo Prism. It was a stick shift. He needed to make a right turn onto Roberts Road, but people were backed up from the light.
In my memory, he was "one car length away" from where the turn lane started.
Pop didn't think he'd get in trouble for using the shoulder for 10 ft. There was no bike lane.
An officer was there and he got a ticket.
I don't remember Pop's rules, but my takeaway was something like this:
1 - Be respectful.
2 - Cops have a book full of rules.
3 - If you give them any reason to, they can look through that book of rules until they find something.
4 - They can always find something.
5 - And even if they don't they can keep you there for a long time.
6 - Don't do anything sudden.
and 7 - You'll be in trouble if you do something stupid.
I also took away a bonus thought: "If it can happen to Mr. Perfect it can happen to me."
If Pop was pulled over before I was, maybe it was God saying "You can handle this now and it will help ____ here, ____ here, and Mike here down the line."
I'm not writing the 'big' story, so I couldn't tell you. I only write bits of my little story and hopefully don't mess up too much of it.
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