The cop asked me if there was some kind of emergency and I told him that my father had died that morning and my mind was kind of wandering. He took my license and insurance papers back to his car for about Five minutes, and came back to ask me to step out of the car. Then he started grilling me about controlled substances and pot, and searched me. (You should've seen the cop's eyes when he took two $100 bills out of my front pants pocket. Wheels were turning, ethics and morals being tested. Then he asked if I minded if he took a (quick) look in my car to make sure it was clean and (knowing he would do it anyway) I said O.K.
At that point another patrol car pulled up and the other deputy walked up. The first cop looked in the door panel for a second and went right to the console, where there was a 22-caliber pistol. I saw him pull it out, drop it on the seat, unsnap his weapon, and start waking toward me. I was then handcuffed (tightly), put in the back seat of the patrol car, and told I was being arrested for a weapon and grilled for having so much cash.
I watched as they went through every inch of the car, in terror of increasing weight on my family and myself, missing my father's funeral, and spending more incredible amounts of money (and possibly time), as I had in the past on these legal things.
About 30 minutes (of terror) later, one of the officers walked back to the patrol car and said, "Mr. Sherman, we found a vile of clear liquid in the front seat of the car and we believe it's some sort of chemical". I looked him straight in the eye and said "bubbles". He replied, "bubbles?" I politely said, "yeah, try it".
He closed the door and walked back to my car, said something to the other cop, and proceeded to stand on the side of the car and blow bubbles. They gave up the search, walked back to the patrol car, opened the door, took off the handcuffs, wrote me a warning, and told me to "slow it down".
I got in my car, fastened my seatbelt, and got on the freeway. My car was a total mess, and when I got home in Austin, the list of names and #s my mom delegated to me (to announce the death) was nowhere to be found. It was really obvious that cop # 2 was having visions of confiscation, followed by photographs of cash, guns, and cocaine. I wonder what they were thinking when they saw the ATF hat in the car, left over from Halloween?
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