It was mid-January. As I traveled down I-95 I thought to myself that the weather was un-seasonably warm in this section of Southern Delaware, especially during this time of year. It was a very mild 72 degrees. The sun beamed its late morning warmth inside my car. Just leaving Georgetown, I knew that this section of the interstate wouldn't have many patrols. Once past the little town of Stockley, I adjusted my body position, and eased my foot down on the accelerator. The engine just gulped the added demand and seemed to ask for more. The highway was deserted. Just me, and my prize possession, 'running' down the multi-lane highway at 90 miles per hour.

 

Ahhh... it felt good. As I looked down the highway, eyes always aware, casually gazing at the radar detector under my mirror, I thought about the encounter I had a couple of months earlier with the California Highway Patrol officer. I remember her gun, and how it protruded from her holster. I remember her uniform, how it fit perfectly to a tee. I remember her warm brown skin, how it contrasted her tan uniform, perfectly creased. I felt an erection starting as I remembered the encounter; how she barked commands at me. Not realizing it, I glanced at the speedometer...105. 'Oh shit!!!!!' I eased it back down to 90.

I knew I wouldn't encounter officer 'friendly' in this section of the country. But the last thing I needed was to encounter one of those redneck 'hic' cops from. They're notorious for throwing blacks in jail for days. But I felt confident that my vision and my detector would keep me safe. The highway ripped by at breakneck speed. Mile after mile went by and before long, I approached the elevated expressway. I hit the expressway doing 85, and sped up to 95. My thoughts again went to "Officer friendly." Oh what a time she showed me. Continually thinking about her skin, her breast, her abuse, that I absolutely loved it! I never noticed the cruiser that approached from the rear. Then, suddenly like a cold blast of water, blue lights.

"Fuck!!!"

 

As I looked in the rear view mirror, I noticed that the cruiser was silver, not completely white. 'Shit!!!' It wasn't a state trooper; it was a local sheriff. Getting my bearings, I realized I was in fucking no man's land. I eased down the speed and came to a stop. The cruiser stopped behind me. I reached for my glove box to get my insurance and registration papers and pulled up. My heart was beating a mile a minute. My mouth was dry and my hands were shaking. I knew this redneck S.O.B. was going to want to take me in.

 

But just then, the officer stepped out of the cruiser. Surprisingly it was a woman. She was about 5' 3," Black uniform, shades, and she was foine. A sigh of relief came from me. As she walked to the car, she looked strangely familiar. I glanced out of the driver door rearview mirror, and my mouth dropped. 'It couldn't be!' It was "officer friendly." 'No!!! Impossible!!!' I closed my eyes, shook my head, and looked again. This time she was closer. There was no doubt. Unnoticed, she had a partner, who was standing in front of the patrol cruiser. She, also a black female, was about 5' 5," same voluptuous build as "officer friendly." As I glanced out of the rearview mirror at her partner, the first officer yelled at me.

 

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"

I turned up towards the open window and told her, "I think I was speeding officer."

"WHAT?" she yelled. She slowly raised her hand and removed her sunglasses. "YOU?? AGAIN?"

 

There was no doubt. This was "officer friendly," whom I encountered in Southern Cali, just 3 months earlier. I thought I was having a dream. I couldn't believe it. And she had a stern, firm look on her face. She was not in a good mood.

 

"I pulled your muthafuckin ass over before, didn't I?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"So, just what the fuck gives you the idea u can pass thru my patrol area speeding again muthafucka?!"

"I was actually on my way home to see my folks," I answered.

"Oh, going home to see mommy? How nice..." She showed a sarcastic smile. Just then she turned to her partner and shouted "Cut it Jizzelle!"

The other officer walked back to the cruiser, leaned inside, and manipulated the dashboard camera in the vehicle, turning it off. She leaned back, "You okay Syrea?"

"Yeah," she answered, "I believe we got us a 'live' one here." Then, with her face only inches from mine she barked in my ear, "What the fuck did I tell you would happen if I caught you speeding again?"

"I'd go to jail," I answered.

"And you didn't fucking believe me?"

"Yes, I did believe you officer... but we're not in California," I pleaded.

"BINGO MUTHAFUCKA! We're NOT in Cali!!!" she yelled. "Hey Jizzelle, I believe this is the muthafuckin son-of-a-bitch that got me axed from that CHP gig!" she yelled to her partner.

"Girl NO!!!" Jizzelle responded.

"Oh yeah, got to be him."

"Yes in-fucking-deed," was officer Jizzelle's response as she walked up on the right side of my car, tapping very firmly on her nightstick. "Take his shit!!!" Jizzelle barked.

Officer Syrea snatched the paper and license from my hand and inspected the articles. "Yeah, his shit's in order now... but someone needs to pay."

"Officer, if you remember, you gave me a warning, and you didn't give me a citation... and from that point I adhered to the speed limit," I pleaded.

"Yeah, I remember that warning," she said with a gleam in her eye. "But today's not your lucky day... someone has to pay for me getting axed... might as well be you."

Despair set in, I got nervous. Officer Syrea ordered me out of the car to the back of the vehicle. "Assume the position."

I placed my hands on the trunk, and spread my legs. Officer Jizzelle started rapping her night stick again.

"Don't get any ideas asshole; I know how to use this 45."

 

Officer Syrea began the search, starting with my chest. It was a thorough search. She wasn't firm with her hands, but harsh. As she patted, she punched my ribs and back.

 

"Just have to make sure nothing's in there." When she got to my crotch, she grabbed, my balls, and squeezed harshly.

I winced in pain. "Ohh... damn."

Officer Jizzelle barked "Ok, please give me a reason muthafucka!" with her hands by her hips.

"I'm not giving any resistance officers," I pleaded.

"I know!" officer Syrea barked.

 

She took her handcuffs and grabbed both my arms behind me and cuffed me. The finality of the last click set in. 'Damn,' I realized, 'I'm fucking going to jail in Delaware. Panic set in. I dare not say anything, lest I get a slug from Officer Jizzelle.

 

Officer Syrea pulled me harshly, and barked, "Ok muthafuka, time to roll."

 

She grabbed me and placed me in the back of the patrol car. She spoke with Officer Jizzelle for about a minute, both of them laughing in between. Officer Syrea walked up to my car, while Officer Jizzelle walked back to the patrol cruiser.

 

"We'll be good Samaritans today, and drive your car for you; otherwise, we'd just leave it here to get stripped."

 

Officer Syrea walked back up to my car. She took the keys from the ignition and walked to the back of my car, opened the trunk and inspected the goods. After being satisfied that nothing was unusual or out of place she took the keys and got in my vehicle. Officer Jizzelle got into the patrol car and adjusted her rearview mirror.

 

"So you say you're not the reason for me losing my gig in Cali huh?"

"No," I immediately responded. "I had no problem with the tactics and procedures you used in convincing me that it would be to my advantage to adhere to the speed limit."

With a terse and angry face she barked, "Look, stop patronizing me muthafucka. I don't need that shit from you today.

We took off, Officer Jizzelle driving the patrol car, me in the back seat, with Officer Syrea driving my car. It was a moderately long drive. I noticed as we came to the end of the elevated expressway we took the Bridge exit. The exit led to Highway 1. I settled back as I knew the drive would take about 20 minutes. When we got to the end of the exit, Officer Jizzelle turned left, and so did Officer Syrea right after her. This was surprising. We were now driving due South. We were going in the wrong direction. After a couple of minutes, I worked up the nerve to speak.

 

"Am I going to jail in Kregley? I believe it's in the other direction."

She snapped, "Son-of-a-bitch, did I ask you for a muthafuckin comment? Did I ask you for muthafuckin directions? Did I ask you where the fuck you're muthafuckin ass wanted to be locked up?"

 

I clearly understood the direction of the message and settled back on the back seat of the cruiser. I noticed she was slowing down and pulling to the side.