Went to get a haircut because my license expires on the first and I'm going to the DMV tomorrow after work to finally make myself a legal NJ citizen. Salon is three minutes from my apartment. I'm 45 seconds from the salon when I notice a cop car tailing close behind me as I'm coming up on the triangle that has no yield signs and I never know who has the right of way. I think maybe I panicked/tried to drive normal/was confident in the timing of cars coming and going, went through the triangle and made the immediate left turn to get into the parking lot. Cop car followed and threw on his lights. Shit.

So he asks me if I know why he pulled me over.

For driving like an asshole? I ask. He said, yes, well, I did cut that car off (plenty of time! No cutting off!).

But, no, he apparently followed me all the way from the light by my apartment where I had to drive through the police barrier to get out. My street is blocked still on the other side of my driveway because the power lines are dangling in the streets (let me tell you about the banging on my door at midnight by guys in hardhats telling me I might lose power and giving me a heart attack) and so the street is blocked to through traffic. I think he thought I was trying to lose him when really he was making me nervous in an already tricky intersection.

Then he asks me if I was smoking pot, and that's it's not a terrible crime, and he has never been wrong when suspecting pot smoke, and that it's a very distinctive odor /Elliot Spencer. I assure him that I do not, have not, please check my car for the embarrassing moldy chicken bones festering in the plastic bag from lunch two weeks ago under the spiderweb in my backseat. I tell him there's cigarette smoke, sure. He's hung up on the pot. Then he asks me why I'm in the parking lot. To get a haircut: he checks to see if there is indeed a hair salon. Runs my license, which is still NH. Asks me if he'll find anything. God, you're about to find out! Then grills me on where I live, who owned the place previously, which house it is (the one where the fucking tree fell down with the Union Jack on the mailbox!)

He then suggests that maybe there are kids smoking pot next door to the salon, that I have thirty days to get a new license, and that if the ladies in the salon asked why he was talking to me, to say that my car matched the car involved in a crime (wtf?).

I went inside laughing hysterically and told them everything.

I haven't had car insurance for a year. God exists and is telling me to get that shit taken care of.

I think what truth there is behind this comes from the fact that often -- though not always -- when someone is looking, they can come off as desperate, which is not very attractive. But when thy "stops looking," there can be an attitudinal change from not seeming desperate.

That's true but I think it's also important to stay open to the possibility of love, if that's what you want, and let people know you are.

Just throw her a bible and tell her to skip the gang rapes and stuff?

Jesse, I miss Boston more for not seeing you than for not seeing my ex-boyfriend and I don't care how wrong that is.

I loved having a house and yard full of kids and babies on Saturday and it made me a little wistful. But not enough to want to be a chauffeur for kids the way I see many of my friends. That alone is enough to make me not fight too hard to make a baby. Seriously. So if I did want to make a baby, I'd need to move somewhere like NYC where I can teach him to take a cab or subway by himself. When he's two.

please check my car for the embarrassing moldy chicken bones festering in the plastic bag from lunch two weeks ago under the spiderweb in my backseat.

Did he actually check for the chicken bones?

I think what truth there is behind this comes from the fact that often -- though not always -- when someone is looking, they can come off as desperate, which is not very attractive. But when thy "stops looking," there can be an attitudinal change from not seeming desperate.

In your case, though, you joined up with a kink group because you were interested in pursuing that aspect of your sexuality. And it was very social too, such that you met somebody like Tim.

So while you didn't join the group to meet folks, you did put yourself out there in a place where you could mingle with the humans.

No, he refused to search my car, although it would've been funny if he'd touched the shirt I'd used to pull poison ivy up and still haven't washed.

Jesse, I miss Boston more for not seeing you than for not seeing my ex-boyfriend and I don't care how wrong that is.

Aw, so nice! You guys are nice to me today.

I wonder if they have nerd speed dating in LA. I'd love to go people watch.

So while you didn't join the group to meet folks, you did put yourself out there in a place where you could mingle with the humans.

It makes me sad that, since Tim and I are not out to very many people (except, you know, THE INTERNET), I can never speak up and point to myself as living proof of the axiom that if you just get involved with things you're interested in, you'll Find That Special Someone. (Because if I did, I would have to explain HOW, exactly, it was that I met Tim, and what interest of mine it was that I was pursuing.)

And I joined to meet folks, just not to Meet Folks in a naked way.

And I guess that isn't entirely true, because, well, it's a sexuality-based organization, and the possibility is always out there. I just wasn't *specifically* looking for a relationship. I was just trying to get out of the apartment.

Juliebird, WTH? That cop sounds like a total weirdo.

So if I did want to make a baby, I'd need to move somewhere like NYC where I can teach him to take a cab or subway by himself. When he's two.

Yes, I would love this in a baby. I'm working on trying to potty train my friend's one-year-old. With my mind. She's more interested in biting her dolls in the face and rubbing yogurt in her hair. I guess we're going to have to compromise.