Preface:
The year was 94, when Shawn had been in his car driving to deliver crack cocaine. The responsibility for the drugs was dangerous, and extremely precarious. They were packed into his trunk. Raw.
Unintentionally, Shawn was speeding and didn't exactly acknowledge.
Inevitably, a policeman was on his tail, flashing the car's blue and red lights, signaling to pull over.
So Shawn had two choices: Pullover or Loose him.
He dug up a few dollars in his pocket, and was determined to win this case.
The white man had made his way over to Shawn's car.
"Son, do you know what I'm stopping you for?"
Cause I'm black and young? he thought.
"No sir," he spoke.
The policeman leaned against his car
"Well, you were doing fifty-five on a fifty-four. I'd like your license and registration. Would you step out of the car. Do you have a weapon, son?"
"I ain't getting out of my car, because my papers are real."
The policeman sighed and shifted his weight from his right foot to left.
"Do you mind if I search around your car a little bit?" he spoke.
Shawn lifted an eyebrow.
"My glove compartment is locked, and so is my trunk. I know my rights sir, so your gon' need a warrant for that."
He chuckled.
"Well, aren't you a know-it-all. What? You somebody important or a lawyer or something?"
Shawn shrugged.
"Nah I didn't pass the bar, but I know a enough to know you can't illegally search my shit."
"Well, let's see what happens when the canines come."
