Mean Woman Blues

as she’d once read you were supposed to do— it made the cops feel more comfortable or something. Too late, she recalled she had blue hair; that may not have been so reassuring.
    Oh, well
, she thought.
Good thing I resisted a nose ring.
    The cop looked okay: mid-thirties, maybe, slightly heavy; but not a redneck. That was good.
    “What’s going on?” she said.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Terri Whittaker. Have I done something wrong?”
    “I noticed you don’t have a brake tag.” He pointed to her windshield. Louisiana law required a brake check every year; if you passed, you got a tag that said so. If you didn’t you got a ticket.
    “I’m really embarrassed. I just… uh… well, I work two jobs and go to school…”
    He smiled, showing he understood. “See your driver’s license?”
    “My… uh… omigod. I came out without it I just went to… She turned around and reached through the windshield, meaning to show him the cigarettes. His hand closed around her arm, hard, and she screamed, it was so unexpected.
    “Stay where you are, please.”
    “I just… I mean I was going to…”
    “Just stay where you are.” She saw him glance in at the seat and, apparently having reassured himself there was no gun there, he said to her, “Insurance?”
    “I, uh, keep everything together. Someone broke into my car once and took everything, registration and all, so I…”
    “You keep everything together.” He smiled at her.
    She decided to flirt a little. “Now, how’d you know that?”
    “Oh, just a lucky guess.” Thank God. He was being nice. “So you don’t have your registration, either.”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so dumb. I was upset and I just came tearing out without even thinking about it.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “To get cigarettes. I’ve already gotten them. I’m on my way home now, just a couple of blocks away.”
    “Terri, have you been drinking?”
    She shouldn’t have been shocked by the question, but she was. “No. Why would you think that?”
    “Say the alphabet for me.”
    Impatiently, she raced through it.
    “You messed up, Terri.”
    “I did? How?”
    “You know what I want to know? How come every time I ask you a question you answer me with another one?”
    “Am I doing that?”
    “There you go again, Terri.”
    This was getting out of hand. She tried to head it off. “Listen, Officer, I meant no disrespect. I really didn’t know I was doing it.”
    “Let’s try it again. Say the alphabet.”
    This time she went through it more slowly.
    “Okay,” he said. “Close your eyes and touch your nose with your index finger.”
    She did it easily.
    “All right. I’m going to write you up. Get back in the car, please.”
    He asked her her date of birth and a few other questions, and then he got back in his car and scribbled for a long time, so long she was pretty sure he was playing some passive-aggressive game with her, making her wait for no reason, and then he picked up his radio mike.
    He talked awhile and returned.
    “Everything okay?” she said.
    “You need to step out of the car again.”
    She opened the door and got out, quickly stubbing out the cigarette she’d finally gotten to have.
    “Now step away.”
    “Why?”
    “You’re answering me with a question.”
    She obeyed him, feeling nervous.
    “Now put your hands behind your back.”
    Once again she obeyed, and before she had a chance to think about it, he’d handcuffed her. She stared at him, utterly bewildered. She wanted to ask him why he did it, but it seemed questions were suddenly against the law.
    He said, “Terri, you got any warrants out against you?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “Have you done anything?”
    “Well, no. I haven’t.”
    “Yes, you have.”
    She remembered her parking tickets. There were so many they’d threatened to boot her car, so she had a tittle stash at home meant to take care of them at the end of the month. “It must be my parking tickets.”
    “I’m going to have to take you down to the police station. Maybe you can call somebody to come pay your tickets.”
    He wouldn’t let her move her car, but it hardly mattered; she’d be out in an hour or two.
    But he didn’t take her to the station. He took her somewhere with doors like an elevator that opened automatically and then you were standing in a space with more of those doors. Once you got in, there was a large room with lots of hard plastic chairs, like a bus station. The room