75 in a 70

I want you to imagine what you think the drive from Santa Fe, NM to Norman, OK looks like. Just picture it. We have Eastern NM, the Texas Panhandle and Western Oklahoma to imagine here. Come on, just try and picture it. Five bucks says right now you are at a loss for what that looks like. That's because it looks like nothing. Maybe time has erased my memories but all I can remember from that ten hour stretch of driving was flat, brown fields of dust and highway stretching for miles. Surprisingly it wasn't nearly as tedious as driving through South Dakota, but I'll never be able to come up with an explanation as to why.

My only memory comes from halfway through the trip, about an hour outside of Amarillo. As I flew down the highway on cruise control I became aware of flashing police lights behind me. To my dismay as I pulled over to let the car pass he pulled over with me. I had slowed down at this point, obviously, but I didn't remember driving particularly fast. I assumed this would be a matter about a broken taillight or something non-speed related.

The cop, right out of central casting with his cowboy hat and giant donut belly, strolled up to the car and greeted us with a friendly hello. After checking my information he asked me if I knew I was going 75 in a 70 zone. A long period of silence followed and I asked him to repeat that. "Do you realize. That you were going. 75. in a. 70. zone?" As much as I wanted to say "Yes. Yes I do realize that." I instead feigned ignorance and made my case for the Academy Award for acting. "75 in a...you're kidding! I'm so sorry, Officer, really I promise it won't happen again!"

The officer stared at me for awhile, then stared at Ch'nel, then asked me to follow him back to his car to get this settled. Wait, what? No. No that does not sound like a good idea. I asked if I could stay there and he said that in Texas you have to go back to the car. I swear this is not a state rule but as I really have problems disobeying any type of authority I begrudgingly left Ch'nel with a look that said "If he tries to kill me, call the real cops" and followed him back to his car. I stood outside the car while he ran my information again. "Here, have a seat in the car" he said, patting the passenger seat of his cruiser. This was leading no where good, I could tell you that. I sat down on the edge of the seat and followed the old boarding school rules of two feet firmly on the ground at all times when sitting alone with members of the opposite sex. With my feet firmly planted on the sun dried dirt of Texas I was ready to make a run for it if things got ugly. Instead, things just got weird.

"So what are two girls from New Jersey doing in Texas?"
"Cross country road trip"
"Really? You on vacation from school?"
"Nope, we graduated"
"Vacation from work?"
"We don't have jobs yet"
"What's her name *motions to Ch'nel*"
"Ch'nel."
"You two go to school together?"
"Nope"
"Well then what made the two of you decide to go on a trip together"
"We're friends"
The long silence that followed and the hard glare from the officer made me realize exactly why we had been pulled over for doing 75 in a 70. Suddenly it all made sense. Trooper Bob, here, was convinced that we were an interracial lesbian couple and he wanted to check things out for himself. Whether or not this is true, the pure idea of it made me start to laugh.
"So then where did you two meet?"
"*giggle* work."
"I thought you said you didn't have a job"
"*more laughter* Well, I mean, summer job...it's complicated"

After running through what each of us studied in school, what we hoped to do for work once we got back and began life as hard working American citizens and where else we planned to go on our trip Trooper Bob let us off with a warning. I shook his hand and thanked him for being so kind then strolled back to the car chuckling to myself.

I climbed back into the drivers seat with a smile on my face and looked at Ch'nel. Without skipping a beat Ch'nel calmly said "He thought we were interracial lesbians, didn't he." "yep." I answered and drove the car back onto the road. A small bump in an otherwise unremarkable stretch of road, but certainly a memorable one.