How Black You Were Driving

Today was the big drive home from Carolina del Norté, and an excellent chance to watch the Highway Patrols of five states at their finest. I will admit that I’m the first person to play the race card when I get the chance, and I did just that while on the road. Every time I saw flashing headlights and an apprehended vehicle, I imagined this exchange:

Officer Do you have any idea how black you were driving?

And sure enough, the two drivers that I got a look at were black, and their pursuing patrolmen were white. And at least one of these drivers was definitely not the fastest nor the most reckless person on the road. (That was me.) Sure, I may be looking at this through the self-satisfied Yankee prism seen most keenly in Mississippi Burning, but at least this one example held to the stereotype.

I did, however, discover a Chris Rock-esque rule that should be applied to driving while black:

If you tint your windows, the police will not see that you are black. But they’ll think you’re Latino.

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