Are You Serious?

So I'm on my way to see a friend of mine in Durham. We hadn't seen each other in about three months which is rather unusual for us. I was supposed to arrive at 3:30 at the meet up spot but I didn't end up leaving my house til after three and the drive is about forty minutes. It was a little rainy but the drive was going well. A state trooper appeared from out of nowhere and everybody slowed down in homage to the blue lights. Me, as long as I'm not doing anything crazy I'm pretty much gonna maintain my flow. The trooper was in the passing lane and I was behind him. He tapped his brakes and I slowed up and got in the right lane. I was doing about 70 and my car slightly inched ahead of his. Here go the dang lights.

I rode for a minute making faces at him in my rear view mirror, indicative of my shock that he would pull me over. When I came to a stop he started shouting something at me over the loudspeaker. I couldn't understand what he was saying and he just kept shouting the same inaudible command. I thought he was telling me to get off my cell phone but I wasn't talking on it. Finally I was able to make out "bridge" so I figured that he wanted me to pull a little more forward so that we could both be off the bridge. Once I stopped again, he got out and started with the police 101 talk.

Him: Is there any reason why you're going so fast?
Me: I'm only going 70.
Him: Well the speed limit is 65. I'm a state trooper and you were going to pass me.
Me: (indignant-thinking to myself who gives a phuck; you got a car just like i do. cars are meant to go)Who does that?
Him: (frown on his face because he didn't understand)Huh?
Me: Who gives people tickets for going 5 miles over the speed limit?
Him: The speed limit is 65. And why were you on my bumper. Is there any reason why you were following so closely?
Me: I didn't think I was that close.
Him: You were too close. When I tapped my brakes you slowed down.
Me: I slowed down because I thought someone in front of you was slowing down.
Him: License and registration.
Me: (I pause and act like I don't know where my information is and reach in the glove box and hand it to him, but not before I add this)I'm late getting somewhere. Can you expedite this?
Him: (no response just looks and walks to his car)

I whip out the cell phone to tell Tonya that I'm going to be late because I got pulled over. Of course Captain Redneck takes his time writing my ticket. He was probably trying to run my name through all 50 states to see if there was anything he could get me on. If this had been a year ago, he would have been successful. I'm completely legit now. Gots all my papers. When Captain Redneck has returned he gives me the ticket for $155 and tells me my court date, yada yada yada. As he turns to leave we dialogue again.

Me: Let me say this to you.
Him: (He pauses and puts his head back down to the passenger side window)
Me: When you were shouting at me through the loud speaker I couldn't understand what you were saying. I thought you were trying to tell me to get off my phone but I wasn't on the phone. I was very nervous because I don't know if you watch t.v. where you live but I do. I know what white men with guns do to black men when they get stopped and I didn't want you to shoot me.
Him: I wouldn't shoot you unless you shot at me.
Me: (ignoring that b.s. and annoyed at being interrupted)Your tone was very aggressive and I didn't like it. The way you got out of your vehicle was too aggressive as well. I thought you were gonna take out your billy stick and hit me with it. You need to understand in the context of you being a white man with a gun and me being an unarmed black man how I must've felt when you were shouting at me. I didn't want to make any sudden moves. That's why I put my hands up and opened the door when you were shouting because I didn't want to give you any reason to think you needed to shoot me. I still don't see why you stopped me because I was only doing 5 miles over the speed limit.
Him: (sensing where I was going with this)You getting stopped has nothing to do with you being black. You just need to slow down.
Me: Well, I didn't get stopped by officers before I purchased this car.
Him: Just slow down.
Me: (put my car in gear and told him I was leaving. He was still bent over inside my window.)
Him:Be careful when you merge back onto the highway.
Me: **crickets**and an attitude for him making me even later

I really don't think I overreacted and tried to make it something that it wasn't. It angered me that he would be so dismissive because he's never had to walk one mile in my shoes. I do not like the police. (Except for one_man) I have not had good experiences with them. I truly believe that his major reason for stopping me is that he thought I was disrespecting him by passing him when he's a state trooper. Who cares? I had somewhere to go and as a law abiding citizen I don't feel like I have to stop driving because a state trooper is on the road with me. That would be like if I was have an observation and I wasn't teaching hopping up and trying to act like I was doing something. I don't even roll like that. FTDS.

Even in 2007?

I had been going through some financial stuff and whatnot. When I was able to recover from the issue, I decided to take myself a little trip to unwind. This was in December of 2007 around the 20th. I went to the city of brotherly love. I didn't really know anyone, except a couple of homeboys from college, but that wasn't really my purpose. I hit them up so that we could hang out while I was there, but my main purpose was just to chill and unwind. I stayed at a decent spot while I was there. I'm actually a gold passport member, so I collect points and get discounts when they offer promotions.

The second day of my stay I decided to go to
Ms. Tootsie's. You know, that's one of the restaurants the queen of television spoke about on one of her shows. If Oprah puts her seal of approval on it, then you know it's bonafide. Remember when she said something about not eating beef and some of the heavys from the beef industry sued her for lost profits? I enjoyed what I ate. When it was over I wanted to stroll down South Street and check out the scene before returning home. At some point it got a little wet and messy. I tried unsuccessfully to hail a cab for about 20 minutes. 20 freakin' minutes.

I thought that perhaps the reason that the cab drivers weren't stopping was because I wasn't doing it right. Maybe I should have been flailing my arms in a left to right motion instead of up and down. I'm not exactly a city slicker. Being a good ole country boy I thought that my cab hailing ability left something to be desired, as hailing cabs is not a valued skill in the south because everyone has a car. Anyway, no one would stop. Meanwhile the drizzle has turned to light rain. I start the trek back to my hotel. I ran up on some dudes hustling cds on the street. I asked them why the cab drivers wouldn't stop for me. They told me that there had recently been a series of cab driver murders committed by individuals who looked like me.

Let me describe my appearance. I looked like an Express model, minus the height. Loafers, jeans, sweater, light bubble jacket. Clearly not threatening. And it's not like I have dreads or anything that people associate with a threatening black man. I'm clean cut, small framed and well attired. Still these m effas wouldn't stop for me. So I'm still just walking back to my hotel. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

That's RACIST like a mug!! Here I am staying at the fuckin' Hyatt Regency looking like an Express model (I'll throw in articulate--you know how white people say that like it's a compliment that you can use the King's English) and these peeps won't give me a ride that I'm willing to pay for back to my hotel. I wasn't headed to the projects or the rough side of town, but they wouldn't even stop so that I could tell them where I was going. They simply saw my outer shell and opted to keep it moving. I guess they don't need money that bad.

Other than that I had a good time just unwinding and chilling. I met some interesting people one night on the street. (Don't ask). Suffice it to say that I've never met a stranger.