Whatever You Do... Don't Flinch

I live on the western end of my county and as luck would have it, everything remotely interesting is to the East. Lucky for me because this means I get to drive through the 2 1/2 mile stretch of the teaming metropolis of The Badlands. Truly, the name it really has doesn't do it justice. The Badlands is 1/2 industrial and 1/2 porn industry. Where else can you buy brick and block and cock in the span of two feet? In this 2 1/2 mile stretch of roadway you will find two Baptist churches, one is beside a "showbar" and the other beside of a "bookstore." In between these two is a "video store," which is roughly the size of a Super Wal-Mart. Don't forget the three hotels!!! One is sweetly dubbed "The El-Raunch-o." One of the other smaller hotels made the news a few months back because they found a body wrapped up nice and neat in a trashcan behind it. One of the bars has been practically destroyed three times by errant vehicles crashing into it. Somehow, one even ended up inside the bar on fire. I watched them lift it out with a crane. Across the street from there is where one of my clients was murdered. A girl was hit by a car crossing the dangerous four-lane highway further down the road. She was trying to get from one bar to another. The car hit her and knocked her down. While she was trying to get up, she got hit again. She never got up again. On the backside of The Badlands are your pot growers and meth labs. That's just 2 1/2 miles. Those 2 1/2 miles are heavily patrolled by the County Sheriff, who have a detachment right in the city, State Police and the lovely Badlands cops themselves. Ocassionally they raid the strip clubs. That's always fun. Its also fun to have encounters with the Badlands cops. Now, not so many years ago, The Badlands was just that... The Badlands. Then some fucktard got the bright idea of incorporating said "city" for the purpose of collecting B&O taxes from the strip clubs, bookstore, video stores and the industrial businesses. This did nothing more than create something for people to threaten to kill each other over and lead to some indictments for money mishandling, vote buying etc. IN THIS 2 1/2 MILE CITY!! Geez, stuff like that normally only happens on a countywide level. The first wave of Badlands Cops were the Barney Fife's of life. The wannabe cops who couldn't get on at a "real" police department. With the internal shake-up, in which said, "Chief" of Police was outed, all of his Barney Fife buddies were fired and real cops were hired. I'm sorry, did I say cops? I meant CIA wannabes. One of these geniuses even wears his Ray-Bans at night. Yep. Now, they know my car. They know me, not by name, hopefully, but they know who I hang with. We've been pulled over so much I'm surprised they don't ask where I am if I'm not with them. See, Chay was dating this guy whose family is heavy into the coke/crack trade. So, any association to that family, however minor, is duly noted. On two occasions I have had the pleasure of being tailed through the city. I was not speeding, heaven forbid you go ONE MILE over the speed limit, nor was I changing lanes, weaving or otherwise doing anything out of the ordinary. And I don't mean they were just following me, they were thisclose to my bumper. I don't find this cool nor professional. I give them dirty looks in my mirrors and I keep going. I don't touch my brake unless I'm going to stop. I don't look left nor right, I don't speed up, I don't slow down. I know its a game of chicken. They want to see if they can make me flinch. I hate to tell them, but I spent five years in The Badlands before they even thought of coming along. If they want to follow me to the city limits, so be it. I'm getting tired though of being followed into my city and all the way to the turn off for my house. Sometimes I just want to stop the car and ask what their fucking problem is, but that would be flinching and I've learned, whatever you do, don't flinch.