Last week as I was approaching the Exit 127 ramp off of I-29, I noticed that I was being followed. As I customarily do, when I passed the sign informing me of the upcoming exit in one mile a minute or so earlier, I popped off the cruise control to slow down. Despite the fact that the speed limit on South Dakota's interstate highways was increased as of June first this year to eighty miles per hour, I simply have not felt the need to go faster. I continue to lock the cruise in at seventy-five out of habit. Imagine my surprise after signaling left and coming to a full stop at the end of the ramp that I was still being followed quite closely. Imagine my further surprise when colorful, flashing lights went off on the roof of said car along with a burst of siren noise. I was pulled over. Purportedly for speeding. I was mystified but cooperative. I eventually received a warning for speeding, having in my possession an invalid registration (which was made valid in short order when I affixed my signature to the damn thing), and for having shiny objects hanging from my rear-view mirror. I have arrived at the conclusion that I was profiled. They are now stopping middle-aged Mom-types wearing librarian glasses who drive Subaru Outbacks. We are a dangerous societal sub-group, you know. I expect he was disappointed when there was no herbal smell drifting out my opened window when he approached. Particularly since I was wearing a tie-dye sundress. This is what happens when you live in a low-crime area, people. Innocent citizens are harassed and forced to take down their rear-view mirror bling. He must have suspected it was a roach clip.
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