Police.

I was pulled over by a police officer as I was making the four hour trip from college to my house this weekend. Half of the trip is on the interstate, and half is on those state roads through the forest. This is going to be a long post.

Now, before this blog, let me say, I have been pulled over before, and I have nothing against cops. I have been given a ticket, which I knew I deserved, and I took it without complaining or getting upset. I have been yelled at by a cop for speeding in a school zone, and I understood full well why he yelled at me. However, I do not tolerate being pulled over for something I did legally and then being yelled at, interrupted, and treated like a common criminal without being given the opportunity to try to politely explain why I didn't understand.

There was a dotted yellow line on a two lane road. Dotted yellows are passing zones, and as long as no cars are approaching in the other lane, and as long as the passing driver does not exceed speed limit, it is well within the law to use the dotted yellow lines. The problem is that it is difficult to use these lanes properly without looking like a crazy driver. However, a light had turned green, and as soon as we had crossed the road, there was a dotted yellow line, no cars coming towards me, and a semi accelerating very, very slowly in front of me. So I took the opportunity to pull into the passing lane and accelerate more quickly than him, so that both of us could drive without having to be in each other's ways.

As I approach the front of the semi, a car appears coming towards me in the distance, but not near where I am. I have reached about 50 at that point, and pull in front of the semi. A good amount of seconds later, the approaching car passes me, turns on flashing lights, and makes a U-turn. Without even waiting for the car to get behind me, I pull over and get out my information.

A large woman approaches my car.
"Do you have any idea what the speed limit on this road is?"

"Um.. It's 50, isn't it?"

"Well.. I mean, it's 55, but that's not the point, you were going faster than that. Didn't you see me?"

I'm nervous and scared at this point. The closer I get to home, the more I regress into my childhood, and the less control I have over my emotions. I feel sick and I feel the tears welling up, having already driven two hours and done poorly on two exams earlier that day, from being sick all week, and from now having a cop pull me over. I don't feel like an adult, I feel like I'm 16, and I wish my parents were here, because they would know what to do.

"I thought the double yellow--I mean dashed yellow--isn't it for passing? Wasn't it a passing lane? I thought I was allowed--"

"No, you're allowed to use it SAFELY, but I was coming towards you."

"But I couldn't see you when I first pulled over--"

"EXACTLY. You couldn't see me, so you shouldn't have used the lane"

No, I couldn't see you, which is how the dotted yellow lanes work. They are only put in places where if there are no cars in visibility, you are safe to pass, so that you have enough time to pass the car even if someone does appear. You appeared long after I started passing. If we weren't allowed to use the lanes on the off-chance a car would appear, what would be the point of the passing lanes?

"But the lanes are made--"

"Don't interrupt me. That was reckless driving! Do you know I could ARREST you for this? I could take you in right now!"

"But.." The tears well up. "I didn't know I was wrong, that's what the dotted yellow lines are for, and if I couldn't see you I should have had enough room--"

"Excuse me, how old are you?" She looks at me, disgusted, as if it is unwarranted that I get tearful and scared at the suggestion of arresting me.

I'm feeling more and more like a child the less you treat me like a human being. Interrupt me some more, belittle me some more, yell more, be rude. I'm probably 14 at this point, or at least I feel it.

"I'm 21..."

She walks back to her car with my information, and I call Mom. I sob out my story, scared and frightened. I don't want to get arrested, I didn't do anything illegal, and she has interrupted me, refused to listen to my logic, and apparently doesn't understand the idea that she could have appeared long after I began passing the semi, which is okay because dotted yellows are made to accommodate for that. Mom calms me, reminds me that it's going to be okay. I hang up as she walks back.

"Are you calm now?" She is slightly nicer.

"Yes." I say, and wipe the last tear off my face.

She gives me some speech about giving me a warning, about that I need to be safe, about that people die. She leaves. I put my face on my steering wheel and cry more. I'm pretty sure any girl knows that feeling, of just crying out all of your emotions, from stressful weeks of meeting new people and time management and exams and school and being sick all week and then a cop threatening to arrest you, and the injustice of the fact that the cop can interrupt everything you say and not listen to why it made sense that you couldn't see her when you started passing, but she can just yell and interrupt and be rude to you because she's in a position of power. I call my mother, I feel about 12 years old at this point, and I cry until I feel better and am composed enough to drive a car.

Then I pull back on the road and finish driving home.