Friday night, we went to our friend Amy’s graduation party at her parents’ house. They live in the East Bay and we left our cozy house and crossed the Bay Bridge to get there. We were driving peacefully through the hills of Pleasant Hill until the Highway Patrol all of a sudden stopped us. As a kid, though my parents didn’t allow me to watch much TV, I knew and loved the Chips Highway Patrol officers. This Chips-like officer looked more serious and I was afraid to get a ticket or, God forbid!, lose my license. He asked me to roll my window down. I remembered my Miranda rights and laughed sheepishly at the officer, hoping that would show our good intent. I felt even more sheepish when he shouted through his megaphone that I had left the gas cap open.
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