Getting Pulled Over Is A Unique Form of Trauma

It’s about ten on a Saturday night and my friend and I are headed north on Utica Avenue, thinking about what we can get into within the next hour. He only has the car until eleven and just wanted to get out of the house and out of his neighborhood for awhile. He picked me up and we hit the local Wendy’s for some fries, burgers, and of course, a frosty. Still getting used to the rental, he spent a few minutes…