I can't believe I never shared this one!!
This story took place Summer 09' with my co-worker and friend Jenna.
See, one of the many job titles I and Jenna had in MKE was to find new business for the company we worked for. So one day, our boss informed us we would be going to Chicago, and literally, go business to bussiness (mainly banks) and inform them of our services, and how we could better their bad spanish POS materials.
This would be a one day trip into the big city. Leaving in the morning, and returning before 6 pm.
We would rent a sweet white Chevy cobalt from the airport, and take it from there.
Everything was going great. Jenna and I were pumped
to spend the day together, out of the office, and driving around the big city.
The day went by pretty quick... we did our jobs,
and got on the highway to head back to good ol' Milwaukee. As we approached
Racine, we noticed there was bumper-to-bumper traffic. There was no way we
would make it to Milwaukee before 6pm when the car was due to be returned!
I asked if we should take the streets north, and
follow the highway, to try to avoid this mess. She agreed it was a better
idea.
I jumped off the highway, and continued on my merry
way.
At one point of this small, desolate, farm town, I
did not notice the speed limit was 30 MPH, and I was stopped by an unmarked
police car, parked outside a convenience store (like in the movies) looking out
to an empty field.
I saw him turn on his lights, and my heart sank.
SHIT. I’m getting a speeding ticket. I knew I was going over 30 MPH, I just
never saw the sign that said the speed limit had dropped.
I pull over. He comes around to my window and asks
me if I knew why I was stopped. I said: " I assume speeding." He says
yes, and asks to see my license and registration.
I hand him my Florida ID, and the rental car
contract.
He walks back to his car - and runs all the
information.
He returns to my window with a puzzled look, and
looks to Jenna (white girl) and asks to see her ID. She hands it to him.
He asks me if I am Hispanic. I say yes. Then he
asks me why my last name is German. I explain the story. Then he asks me where I
live. I say Milwaukee. Then he asks me why - I explain for a job (and hand him
a business card)
He then proceeds to ask if we have drugs in the
car.
<< I am in SHOCK>>
No. Why would we have drugs? It's a rental! We are
on business!
He asks: If I were to open the trunk right now,
would I find anything?
I look at him dead in the eye, and say: I hope not!
This isn’t my car. And if you find something, it's not ours.
(I say this, because on a trip to California with
my mother, we also got pulled over, and I found marijuana in the glove
compartment)
He returns to his car. I guess to call the rental
agency. And our jobs?
He returns and says:
"Well this is the problem ladies:
Your ID is from FLORIDA
You live in WISCONSIN
The car is registered in CHICAGO
And your tag is registered to a DODGE CARAVAN not a
CHEVY COBALT.
So... This all seems VERY SUSPICIOUS. And many Hispanics
traffic drugs in rentals from Chicago to MILWAUKEE"
<< I’m so nervous, I'm laughing>>
Jenna I think is in shock
And start planning my first and only phone call in jail.
He smiles and agrees to let us go ticket free. I don't know why he didn't give me a ticket - i WAS speeding.
After I thanked him, I asked what the fastest way to get to the airport was. No lie.
Jenna laughed.
He smiled.
We got back on the highway.
And I ripped AVIS a new one.
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