This car is under arrest for being too ugly.

"Please pull over the beat-up sedan and exit with your hands on your head."

Jeez, that's a little harsh.

It's not that beat up.

I pull my car over and exit with my hands at my head, like the police car behind me unceremoniously yelled.

The glorious Nevada light burns a million different colors into my retinas as I blink furiously and glare at the police car.

The police car pulls up behind my sedan which by the way is a perfectly good car.

A young man steps out and walks over to me.

"You were speeding, young lady."

I snort, then quickly restrain myself, "So sorry, sir."

"I'm going to need to write you a fine. It's going to be-- Wait, are you- Are you tying your hair right now? Seriously."

I let go of my sandy-colored hair and let my hands fall to my sides, abandoning the scrunchy that I had been attempting to surreptitiously put into my hair while I had to have my hands above my head anyway.

"Maybe."

The man rolls his eyes, "How about you pay the fine by letting me take you out to lunch at a diner nearby?"

I grin conspiratorially at the hot young cop, "Somehow I get the feeling that what you're asking me to do is illegal, officer."

The cop doesn't miss a beat, he slides into an easy smile, "Do what you want lady, but I wouldn't want to go anywhere in this rusty, weird scrap of metal."

I scowl and fold my arms over my chest, "I hate you. I love my car, she's an antique. C'mon, we're taking my car."