Halfway between Kingsville and Raymondville, amireal and I were stopped for not changing lanes within one hundred feet of signaling we were going to do so.
To give an idea of how very much I wasn't paying attention, it wasn't until we pulled over and I asked Ami what the hell was happening that I realized we were even being followed by a task force police SUV and was still in a state of wtf--
("What did you do?" "I didn't do anything!" "Are you sure?" Ami stares at me hatefully until the officer comes to my window and smiles winningly while I try to remember how windows work. As one does.)
Ami handed over her driver's license and insurance and then looked for the rental agreement while trying to look non-threatening (I mean, I'm not sure how we could have looked less threatening than blank expressions while listening to the Buffy "Once More With Feeling" soundtrack, which we may or may not have been singing along with). He wandered away with her paperwork, then to my utter horror asked her to get out of the car after stepping into the lane to divert traffic and I watched in the rearview mirror as she got into the police car and closed the door. While clutching three bags on my lap in a non-threatening manner. As one does when one is freaked the fuck out.
Eventually--I mean, this was like ten minutes--the officer came back and asked me for Ami's real name--it was close thing not saying Amireal, let me tell you--and what we were doing and where we had come from and our vacation plans and a short quiz on my home city while I continued to clutch every bag Ami had gone through looking for the rental agreement--before wandering back to his car where Ami was waiting, and another few minutes passed before I got out--non-threateningly--and asked if I could smoke so I could more easily stare at them in case he took off with Ami and left me in the middle of nowhere to die alone since right, my phone was stolen in San Antonio and Jesus Christ, this is not my life. Eventually, Ami returned to the car and I got back in as quickly as humanly possible, and as we drove away, Ami told me about the 100 feet violation--seriously? That's a thing?--and then asked me if I was questioned on our plans.
Ami was questioned on our plans, our most recent location, and whether or not she had cocaine, marijuana, or around twelve thousand dollars cash in the car somewhere to buy them. At which time, I realized next time I played "Never Have I" at VVC, I could take a shot for "Have you ever been pulled over in South Texas on suspicion of having cocaine or large amounts of money to buy it?"
Currently on my pool-facing balcony in South Padre contemplating whether or not Ami or I should risk going out of the condo at any point this week.
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