We feel violated

We think it's because the geetar was in the back, out of its case. And because we have this straggly beard now. And we were listening to the Disco Biscuits live at Bonnaroo.

But when we got pulled over for allegedly doing 39 in a 25 ("When you saw us, how come you sped up?" Officer Youngstrappinglad asked), the po-po thought we had the pot-pot in our car.

"Sir, is that a stem?" Officer Flashlightallupinourbidness asked.

"No," OMS replied.

"Are you sure? It looks like a seed or a stem."

"No, sir. It's neither. It's probably a piece of rice or leftover bagel."

"Let me see it," Officer Outtogetthestoners said.

"Sure," OMS said. "But I'm telling you. It's not marijuana."

While we sat, for 20 minutes, in our car, we switched off the Bonnaroo broadcast and sat in silence. We thought about shaving and not carting our geetar through strange towns. We waited. And waited.

We swore we were getting hauled in. "Don't poppy seeds show up in drug tests as the pot?" we thought. "We're screwed. They're totally hauling us in because we like to eat bagels during our commute."

We saw our whole life flash before our very cliched eyes.

And then, nothing.

Officer Allofasuddenaniceguy let us go with a simple citation for not making repairs on our car. We thanked him, spared him the story about nobody, *nobody*, being able to figure out why the Check Engine light is on, and slowly drove away.

Slowly. With turn signals and 10s and 2s a-blazin'.

Oof. Blazin'. Bad word choice. We don't know what that means.

***
This was going to be a story about driving away from our parents' house and turning on the ol' radio to hear Harry Chapin's Cats in the Cradle. But, well, then we almost got a beatdown by two town cops setting speed traps on a Saturday night.

After that, we can handle anything.