After the incident with the suburbans, which actually turned out to be a non incident, I was presented with nothing but open desert in all directions on the meager one lane highway heading northwest across the Texas countryside. That is until a sign that read, inspection point ahead. Luckily, when I get closer, I see it's set up on the other side of the road, stopping and 'inspecting' cars traveling in the opposite direction. As I drive passed the the small shack I see just a few uniformed officers, one of which holds the leash of a German Shepard. Most likely they're looking for 'coyetes'. People who are paid to smuggle immigrants across the border. Nevertheless, I am slightly relieved at having been able to bypass the inspection point on a count of me having my small personal stash of marijuana packed away somewhere in the back of the jeep. My relief was short lived....
A few hours later, I pass a familiar sign, 'Inspection Point Ahead'. It is quickly followed by, 'Be prepared to stop'. Shit, I think. I'm not terribly worried, not only is my stash of minimal quantity, but I don't believe that was the sort of thing they're inspecting for. Such a situation still has a tendency to get your blood pumping, and the last thing I need is for my trip to get shut down before it even starts just because of a little weed.
I roll down my window, come to a stop next to the officer, and say, in my most nonchalant voice, "What's happenin' man?"
"Where you headed?" came his reply. He did not seem amused.
"Big Bend, gonna do some hiking." His response was immediate, no hesitation whatsoever.
"Big Bend huh? Lot's of people go there to smoke weed. You smoke weed?"
"Every once in a while", I shrug at him. I briefly considered adding, 'Why? You got some?' but I figured this was not the optimal time for wiseass-ery.
"You got any weed in the car?" he asks flatly.
"No" I try not to respond too quickly, and add a slight chuckle in an attempt to make the notion seem ridiculous.
"See ya later," is the last thing he says to me and I don't wait around to see if he has anything else to add.
Later that same evening, 100 miles or so down the same highway, those familiar red and blue flashing lights pop up in my rearview to give me another start. When the officer approaches my window he asks if I know why he's pulled me over and I answer honestly, that no, I don't. Turns out its because I was riding in the passing lane while I was the only one on the road. He takes my license and my insurance card, (the seal on the envelope that contained my insurance info is not even been broken yet)and is back in less than 2 minuets saying, 'ok thanks, don't ride in that lane anymore'.
"You got it" I say as I motor onward. It is actually a fairly painless experience. He was friendly, courteous, and efficient. A lot more than I can say for police in Houston, one of whom gave me a $130 ticket for having a break light out because he failed to prove that I was drunk. So it turns out not ALL cops are total dicks. Just the overwhelming majority of them.
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