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Debbie accidentally meets Tim in a bar.

I passed a Maryland rest area. Beyond those there was nothing else out here except flat, sandy land that was once ocean bed and that now supported large fields of corn. I slowed down a tad when I saw a state police building coming up on my right, but I was still going a bit over the speed limit. But, then, who didn't? And the road was flat and straight and nearly deserted.

No more than three miles beyond the state police building, though, I heard a siren and was pulled over to the side of the road. I sat in the car, wondering what I had done wrong, as a solid-looking policeman decked out in a tight uniform and shiny black boots strutted around and took a look at both license plates, all the time swishing a mean-looking night stick with a short leather whip on one end. I wasn't going any faster than anyone else would go on this road. There wasn't anything out here to hit that was worth anything. I rolled down the window as the cop approached. He leaned an arm on the sill and looked intently at me through very dark sunglasses.

"Let me see your license and registration, son."

"Umm, just a minute," I said, as I struggled to get the glove compartment open. "What seems to be the problem, though?"

"License and registration please."

I handed them over to him, and he took them back to his cruiser and did some communicating into a mike on his dash. He got out of the car and sauntered back to mine. He was a tall, muscular Hispanic dude with an obvious attitude toward non-Hispanics.

"Is that your sign in the back window of this here car?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I answered. "But it isn't obstructing my vision. Both of my side mirrors are working fine and I really can see out the back. The sign isn't blocking much."

He didn't answer and he didn't hand my license back to me. "Now, I have to do some more checking, so I want you to pull your car up in the overgrown driveway up there. Pull in a good fifty feet, beyond those trees. I'll be right behind you." I did as he asked. The place he indicated obviously had been abandoned. There was a burnt-out wooden house at the end of a broken-asphalt driveway that was choked with tall weeds. And I don't think either my car or the cruiser could be seen from the road where we pulled to a stop. He came back to my window.

"Officer, what seems to be-?"

"Step out of the car, please."


"Get out of the car now, hands showing, and assume the position on my police ride over here, hands out wide on top and legs apart."

I got out of the car, although I couldn't open the door all the way. The copy was in tight, not giving me much room to maneuver.

"Farther away from the car, now! Over to my ride. Assume the position. Feet wider apart."

He tapped me. No, more than tapped me, bonked me pretty hard on the thigh. It hurt. But I did what he said. I was a little off balance now, concentrating hard to keep my weight balanced on my hands. I figured this was probably the point.

"Got any drugs in the car?"

"Drugs? Me? No, I don't do drugs."

"That's not necessarily what your rap sheet says."

"My rap sheet? What rap sheet?"

"Got any drugs on your person?"

"Certainly not. Listen, officer-"

"Save it."

He started patting me down, doing a real thorough job, not excepting my privates. When he was finished, he stood there beside me. He seemed to be breathing a little heavy, which probably should have clued me in.

"Afraid I'm going to have to do a cavity search."

"Excuse me? A what?"

"Now don't go resisting an officer, he said," as he tapped me meaningfully on the cheek with the big end of his nightstick.

"Open wide," and he had his fingers in my mouth and was roughly feeling around on all sides in there.

"Now, these pants are going to have to come off."

"My pants!?"

"I said a cavity search." He tapped me on the cheek with his nightstick again, and then he put the stick under his arm and held my butt in his left hand as he unbuckled my belt and zipped down my pants with his right."

"Pull your legs together.

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