I recently realized that in my nearly 41 full years of life here on God's Green Earth, I had never once set foot in a police station. Oh sure, I may have taken a ride in the backseat of a squad car once or twice back in my rebellious youth, when I was young, dumb, and full of enthusiasm, but those rides just took me back to my parents' house, never to the precinct, as I like to call it. I guess I've just had a boring life, and looking back on it, I'm OK with that.
Everything changed a few days ago, though. My boring life became quite interesting, at least for a while. Not only did I enter my first police station, but it was in a weird, foreign place where the normal rules don't apply. I was lucky to get out of it alive.
In my head I always pictured police stations as being similar to those you see in television shows, and the one I was in did not disappoint. It was like I had somehow walked into my TV and joined the set of a tense and gritty crime drama. It was part NYPD Blue, part Hill Street Blues, part Law & Order, part Dexter, and part Cop Rock. I don't think I've ever been more frightened!
Thankfully, the police didn't detain us for too long. To be honest, I wasn't the one who the cops wanted to talk to, I was only there to support the alleged scofflaw, a person who shall remain nameless to protect her identity. The whole thing was quite the harrowing experience, though, and it taught me several lessons. I've forgotten most of those lessons already, but the one that is foremost in my mind is to never get into a minor traffic accident in a town like Wichita, Kansas! What a crazy, foreign place that is!