Most encounters I've had with the police have involved moving violations, or noise-complaints called in by nosy neighbors. I have had the good fortune to not be in particularly sticky situations with the cops. My father, on the other hand, has had no such luck. Though he's a law-abiding citizen (as far as I know), he seems to always have some unfortunate anecdote about an interaction he's had with a police officer.

Around four years ago my father, my three uncles and I were driving to New Jersey for Thanksgiving. Nothing was really out of the ordinary besides the inside of the car being filled with loud chatter and laughter. My father is probably one of the best drivers I know, and so when a police officer pulled us over I was surprised. As requested my father produced his license and registration while asking what it is that he had been pulled over for. The officer didn't answer his question and simply looked over his documents. My father asked again "What am I being pulled over for?" He was met with an apathetic stare and silence; my father isn't particularly confrontational so he took the hint and stopped asking (he would later tell me that growing up Black trained him to pick his fights wisely, especially when interacting with the police). The officer returned my father's documents and sent us on our way. The car was silent for the rest of the trip.

When we arrived at Thanksgiving dinner, my father told the rest of my family what had happened. My aunts were upset, and kept indignantly asking "Well if ya didn't do nothing why the hell were you pulled over?" One of my uncles then chimed in to break the tension, "Well of course y'all were pulled over, look who's sitting in the front seat! None other than H. Rap Brown!" He was referring to uncle Maurice who had sat in the front seat and at the time was sporting glasses, a fro, and a long grayish beard. The tension dissolved into laughter and the incident with the police officer was soon forgotten, all that remained was that joke.