So, I went to a meeting of my writers' group today. We had a good crit session, as usual. The meeting was in Fremont, so after it was over, I dropped off a couple of folks at the Fremont BART station, and then got on 880 S to head home.

At some point, I look in my rearview mirror, and there's a California Highway Patrol car there. And he's got a blue light flashing.

Does he want me to pull over?, I think.

I check my speed. I'm at 65 mph exactly. I'm not speeding, I haven't done anything reckless, my registration is current, and as far as I know my car is in perfect working order.

He can't mean me?, I think.

I look in my rearview mirror, and he's still there, and the blue light is still flashing. I figure, if I pull over, and he doesn't actually want me to pull over, then I get to feel dumb. If I don't pull over, and he does want me to pull over, I get a cranky cop following me home. That makes things pretty simple. I pull over.

He pulls up right behind me.

So, now I'm thinking, Crap, what did I do? I get out my wallet so I can hand over my driver's license, and then sit there. It takes him a thousand years to get out of the police cruiser and walk over to my window. The damn passenger window won't go down (I figure out later that I had the safety switch engaged), and so I reach over and open the passenger door for him.

So, he asks for my license, registration, and proof of insurance. I dig out the license, and he says, "So, the reason I pulled you over is that those tinted side windows of yours are illegal in California."

I blink. I have tinted side windows? I look through my partially rolled down driver's side window, and lo, the world does look darker through the window. I have owned this car for nine months, and I never particularly noticed this before. I will admit to taking a quick look around to make sure that I haven't mysteriously driven off with somebody else's silver Acura Integra.

I say something lame, like, "Um, you know, the car was like this when I bought it."

He says, "Yeah, I hear that all the time. Can I see your registration and proof of insurance?"

It takes me what feels like a thousand years to find the damned registration. The adrenaline rush from getting pulled over is hitting me, and I'm pretty sure that I'm acting like a complete nitwit. The cop is trying to put me at ease, chatting about his itchy uniform socks and remarking that we have the same car insurance company. I get him everything he needs and he goes to run it all into the computer or whatever cops do with that stuff.

So, he gives me a fix-it ticket. Basically, I have 30 days to get the tinting taken off my side windows, and all I have to pay is a processing fee. He told me I can even take the tinting off myself by just heating it with a hairdryer and peeling it off. (Online sources have suggested more involved procedures involving ammonia and razor blades, so I'm really not sure if I'm going to try doing it myself.) He was super nice, and even offered to hold up traffic for me if I needed help merging back onto the freeway from the shoulder.

All-in-all, I got off easy for my first time ever being pulled over by a police officer.

On the other hand, it was my first time ever getting pulled over by a police officer, and it was kind of scary. I guess now I'll have a better idea of what to expect if it ever happens to me again.

And I came home, and told this story to Daniel, and he looked at me and said, "Your car has tinted side windows?" So, I guess I'm not the only one who's never noticed.