I had a couple of vacation days at work that I needed to use. So a couple weeks ago, I took a Friday off and prepared for a mini getaway to Galveston Island with my old friend (but new boyfriend). After arriving to the condo on the seawall, we used the Urbanspoon app to find some good food nearby. We opted for the Gumbo Bar near the strand, which was really tasty. I tried the chicken and sausage gumbo since I’m not big on seafood. We walked around the strand together, hand in hand. He found a cigar shop while I was intrigued with all the historical buildings. They really are beautiful, they’ve outlasted so many storms and many generations have walked upon the same streets. Below you can see the insignia of the hurricane Ike water level in 2008, almost 7 feet high (and the bf enjoying his cigar).
After losing the car for about 15 minutes or really, just forgetting where we parked it, we were on the road again. We drove down the seawall and past many beach houses, where it becomes more of a residential area. It was a beautiful night, so we thought we would just drive around with the windows open. I had a bad feeling, deep in my gut, but I didn’t say anything. He went to turn around but at the end of the street, it looked like a roadblock. There were 3 cars, all with their headlights on. Going with his instinct, he swerved back onto the road. There we sat at a stop light with a cop car right behind us. Of course, as the light turned green, the police lights turn on as well. There we were, getting pulled over and for what? Getting caught off guard? Apparently, the reason was “failure to maintain the lane.” We did all the necessary procedures–license and registration.
“Where are you headed to this evening?” he asked.
“No particular destination, sir,” the bf rebutted.
I guess he didn’t like that answer. He was asked to step out of the car, but my boyfriend carries a gun. More rules accompanied.
“Please put your hands on the steering wheel. Ma’am, put your hands on the dash.”
“Seriously?” I thought.
Then they handcuffed him for “safety” issues and told me to step out as well. There we were, parked on gravel and me without my shoes… getting put in the back of a cop car!
I was not a happy camper; I wish I did have my camera or phone with me to take a picture though. There I sat, arms crossed, waiting for them to be done with whatever they thought they were doing. Three more cop cars showed up, again for what, I have no idea. Seemed like a little cop party and they all just wanted to chat it up, wasting our time.
After about 15 to 20 minutes sitting on the hard bench, it the back of this cop car, they let us go. Yep, that was my first for the weekend–sitting in the back of a cop car. I guess I should add it to the list…
