I had a date after work with a Birmingham girl. I got off work at 7:00 and was scheduled to pick her up at 7:30. Normally, I would have taken Crooks Road through Royal Oak and on to Birmingham, but this wasn’t a normal day. I was about to get beat up by a man who could definitely do it. I decided to take the long way, up 11 Mile to Woodward and then out to Birmingham. There’d be more traffic and more witnesses. More witnesses meant less of a chance I get my “ass kicked”.
The drive up 11 Mile was uneventful. I kept checking my rearview mirrors to see if I was being followed. I wasn’t. I made a right on Woodward and blended in with other cars making the nightly loop from the Totem Pole to Ted’s. Shortly after merging in with the Woodward cruise group, I noted a car that seemed to be following me. I maneuvered around a red Impala and watched behind. Sure enough, the car lights remained on my tail.
I kept my cool and remained on course, weaving in and out between cars as they allowed. The three-mile trip up Woodward took forever. Little beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I was more nervous than scared but the sweat couldn’t differentiate my emotions. As I made the turn on my final street, I put the pedal to the metal. If I could get to the house well ahead of them, I could make it inside and lock the door. My date and I would hang at her house if need be.
I was two houses from hers when the police car lights came on. There was no siren, just the distinctive red, white and blue lights that told me something serious was about to go down. I stopped just short of my final destination, and as I started to exit the car I heard a voice bark out, “Stay in the car!” So, I did.
The officer asked for my license and registration. I was familiar with the drill, so I handed everything over in a timely fashion. He checked out my documents and asked, “You in a hurry? I clocked you doing 40 in a 25-mph zone.”
“Not really. I’m just trying to avoid a beat down.” I went on to explain what happened at work and the threat I received.
“You can tell it to the judge if you like. You need to report to the Birmingham police station within seven days. They’ll explain your rights.” As he handed me the ticket he said, “The address is on the back.”
The ticket put a damper on my date, but at least I didn’t get the promised “beat down”. In fact, I never saw “Rich” or “Judy” again. I did report to the police station the following Monday and decided to exercise my right to appeal the ticket. The clerk told me I’d get a letter with an appearance date in the mail. It came the following week, and six weeks later, just before heading back to college, I had my day in court.
TBC