All personally identifying information on this site discovered utilizing resources readily available to the general public. All publicly-obtainable court documents, media reports, and any content of similar nature, provided herein or linked to were pre-published elsewhere by parties other than myself. General images along with my personal photographs are garnered via publicly accessible sources through legal means. The purpose for republishing or otherwise publicizing the information is simply to support the content contained herein.

20081211

For Your Listening Entertainment

I've got a couple things in the works; boy, do I think they’re awesome too! But I have some stuff to iron out first and in the process of doing so I had an unplanned, completely unexpected, dealing with JADE.

I’d been in the area near the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement office for, believe it or not, reasons unrelated to the Task Force. Seemed a fine time to try to tie up one of those loose ends. To do that, I needed to check out the lot where the officers park. I drove down one of the roads that cross with 6th Street SE -- think it’s Blenheim maybe? Whatever the name, the street’s well-sloped and at that intersection one has a very good view of most of the standard places JADErs put their vehicles.

I was slightly more than halfway down its hill when I saw Skoal’s Altima coming out mid-right-turn across the street from me. On a whim, I turned left to get behind him. Funny thing though, like three seconds later he’d passed a couple of parked cars, sidled over to the right, and stopped. But he hadn’t quite pulled all the way over to the curb. It was not only an odd thing to do in general, it was also problematic for other traffic as the road is especially narrow at that spot.

Presumably doing what any driver under normal circumstances would’ve done, I slowed to a standstill about five, maybe ten, feet back from him to make sure I could safely navigate around him, then I zigzagged by him. The moment my back bumper was flush with his front one, his headlights went out. Curious, I thought, because they flicked back on in a jiffy once I was a few feet ahead of him. He pulled right out after me.

With him at the rear of me, he made the next two turns same as me. I tried not to read too much into it -- it was a way he could go home and it was about his going-home time. Funny thing though, his driver’s side front window never went beyond my passenger’s side back window. It was like he didn’t want to pass me. I don’t know if that was the case but, regardless, I forced him to go by me when, at the last possible second I could, I braked suddenly and swung into a left turn lane. He coasted by. I waited to see if he’d hop into another lane himself and come back. He didn’t. I watched until the lights of his sedan completely disappeared in the distance. It didn't occur to me until later all he'd had to do was call his buddies to give them a heads up.

The sun had finished setting and, now mid-evening time, the moon was faintly illuminating the city. It was too dark for me to do what I’d had in mind before I’d gotten side-tracked by Skoal but, just for the hell of it, I went back to the Drug Enforcement building.

Normally I would’ve noted every Task Force vehicle I recognized, from whose it was, to where it was located, right down to the direction it was situated. On this occasion though, having no agenda, I hadn’t done that. I’d noticed Pringle’s car given that it was in such a remarkably out of the ordinary space for him and Porn Star’s since it was, albeit far away, directly in my line of sight.

My just being present there wasn’t accomplishing a darn thing and I couldn’t drum up anything explicit to do that I thought would be productive. I opted to head on out. That’s when I saw Porn Star come out through the double doors and go to his car. I couldn’t drive by him; I’d have to wait to leave.

I guess I was in an inattentive frame of mind or I just didn’t particularly care or some blasé mood.

He tossed… this and that… into his Honda on the passenger side then went to the back and opened the trunk. There I think he did something with his police radio antenna. Either he took the magnetized object out and plunked it on the top of the trunk, signifying whatever he was up to he needed a line of communication open, or he yanked it off and put it back in the trunk, indicating he was finished with business. He moved to the sidewalk and fiddled with his cell phone -- text or talk, I’m not sure which. When he was done, he went back through the double doors into the building.

I was in a quandary. True, he wasn’t outside to observe me but after all his activity I thought it was a safe bet he’d be resurfacing shortly. How was I to know when? And because I hadn’t paid close attention, I had no sense of whether he was about to go arrest a dangerous felon or if he was headed home for steak and potatoes. Maybe you’re thinking “what difference did it make what he was up to?” Oh, it makes a big difference. Believe me. I’ve watched ‘em long enough to know. Anyway, I thought it best to wait until he departed before I tried to get out of there.

I don’t recall how much time passed before he returned. I mean hours didn’t go by or anything but it wasn’t mere seconds either. As soon as I spied him, by the time he’d made it to his car I’d already gotten my engine started and was shifting into reverse. I was ready to call it a night. Since I wasn’t in the mood to purposely follow him, I thought nothing of exiting the same way he had. If we wound up traveling along the same route, it was going to be a coincidence. Besides, I believe I’ve previously mentioned he’s like Speedy Gonzalez on wheels so no matter where he’d went it wasn’t like I thought I’d catch up to him.

In the course of leaving I caught sight of Pringle’s Altima in motion. Jeez I must have mega-been in La-La-Land because I’d totally not seen him come outside. For inexplicable reasons he’d pulled into the upper lot and was making loops around it real slow. Bizarre, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. I snaked around a speed bump, got to the stop sign, made a right, and had Spot’s Impala on my tail. I’d missed Spot coming out of the building too?! For realiously?! I hadn’t even noticed his car down there. I lightly smacked my forehead with my palm.

I arrived at the 5th Street SW traffic signal, got in the left lane, and waited for the light to change. Immediately behind me was Spot, after him presumably was a second JADE vehicle and possibly a third one. There’s really no way to put into words how I knew they intended to pursue me, but I had no doubt that’s what was going to happen. All I could think about was how I might play with the situation. Oops, yeah, no, I take that back; I was also thinking I think Spot is Hot. As. Hell. Seriously the man is yummy.

Given the green light I’d made my turn, as did they. I leisurely scootched up behind some truck in the left lane then stepped on the gas pedal and snapped into the right lane. Spot jerked the Impala over also and suddenly blasted me with his high beams. Nice.

I slowed down. I sped up. I weaved in and out this way. I squeezed out and in that way. Spot et al followed suit. Yeehaw! We went two and a half miles down the road doing that goofy stuff. I could only imagine what their goal was but surely they had in mind something better than what they were doing. Maybe?

They weren’t going to chase me around indefinitely. I got to scheming. I hadn’t done anything wrong and my car was peachy on the legal front. How would they react if I… stopped? I seriously doubted they’d expect me to do that. I mentally flipped a coin: heads, I’d drive straight up to the front door of the soon handy Albemarle County Police Department; tails, I’d halt at a arbitrary place on an upcoming back road. In my opinion, both were equally perilous should these fellows decide to do somethin’ rotten. Tails won.

The road fast narrowed and everything darkened. The high beams of the Impala which had been tolerable up until then became deadly blinding. Spot evidently had no intention of lowering them and after I took two curves wildly sight-impaired, I determined it was either pull over or wreck. I saw an opportune place: a very short turning lane. I glided into it and stopped mid-way down. Spot came to rest behind me.

I grabbed a nifty little device, powered it on, pushed “REC” and slid it under my bra strap. About ten seconds later Spot activated his emergency lights, at which point I rolled my window down.

I’m providing the recording here, unedited, in its entirety. It’s a tad under four minutes long but our exchange is less than that. By the way, Spot is still Hot. As. Hell. And I definitely want to thank him for shouting, ‘cause the audio? Came out sweet!

There’s a couple of places you can hear me hold my breath or squeak to avoid laughing. For example I do that in response to him calling me ma’am at the get-go, as it was way before it was possible for him to have ascertained what sex I am. Technically, at no time up until he said the words “of Charlottesville” had he been in any position to view anything other than my headrest and seat. Then after the inadvertent oral indication that he already knew who was behind the wheel, to launch into an act that it was an indiscriminate stop of a random unknown person? Pfft.

I’m disappointed he used the pretense of “speeding” -- as I think my tone reflects when I repeat the word -- but I’m not going to rake him over the coals for that since I suppose it’s easier for him to keep with familiar standard cop BS than come up with something that’s clever or, God forbid, true.

One other thing I don’t quite get is why he asked me where I was going to rather than where I was coming from. Both seem logical to me but if I’d been him I would’ve asked the latter on the grounds it might be more advantageous. Think about it: If a cop knows where you were, it’s harder for you to lie about it without getting tangled up in it. If a cop doesn’t know where you’re going, you could name any place, then if you didn’t go where you said, well, you changed your mind. Right?

That’s sort of what I did. Hey, prior to Porn Star’s emergence and Spot’s shot at deterrence I’d planned on going home. I changed my mind.

I’d thought by the end of Spot and my interaction, he’d gotten a bit brusque for his britches. Apparently he missed the memo that I’ve got more tenacity -- perhaps audacity -- than just about anyone else on the planet. I went back to their parking lot.

Truck’s car was the only one I found there that belonged to anyone on the Task Force. A uniformed officer in a marked car came through on patrol. He spotlighted the entire area and lit up all the plates of all the automobiles present. I smiled and waved at him. Gee, I guess he didn’t find who he was s'posed to be looking for. He parked and went in the building I reckon to chat with Truck. I left after a few minutes, satisfied that I’d matched Spot for arrogance.