Liverdance 3, Part One

I'm going to try something here. This story will be broken up into three or four segments, hopefully to work with my pitifully short attention span. We'll see how it goes.

L3.

Photo courtesy of Warlocks Boise

As some of you know, C-Note and I cruised down to Boise this past weekend for a little bit of alleycattin' (and a lot of driving and drinking, although not necessarily together). The Warlocks put on the third edition of their annual St. Patty's day Alleycat, Liverdance on Saturday evening.
The adventure did not start there, though. We had our first-ever introductions with the Yellowstone Park Police at about hour 1.5 of our eight hour drive. Being followed for twenty minutes, I kept staying legal..I had my headlights on, went the speed limit, slowed down for snow and ice, didn't drink any beer.
And then I saw the lights. We figured something was up, since we had passed about four other cars pulled over in those twenty minutes. I calmly pulled over, waited for the office to get out, and tried to stifle a laugh as the second cop has his Mag-lite on (it was about 6:30pm...still light).
A very nervous officer asks for my ID and other stuff. He asks if we have any drugs (no), weapons(no), or alcohol(one growler of Bozone for a certain Ninja).
"Can I see that bottle?" says the cop.
"Sure, here ya go," says me
"WE GOT A BOTTLE OF ALCOHOL!!! WE GOT A BOTTLE OF ALCOHOL!!!!" not so calmly and very nervously says the cop.
At this point I see six Park Police doors open (evidently we were pulled over by two cars) with five officers and one dog getting out.
Calm cop asks, "You been drinking this beer?"
"Um, no...you can open it up and see that it's full if you want." I respond calmly.
Nervous cop (cop #1) says that he pulled us over because "even though you were driving completely legally, and your lights were on, your license plate lights were out. And they have to be on."
"Well, this is my friend's car. I'll tell him to fix that."
"And your windshield is severely cracked as well,"
"OK, I'll tell him that too."
"Would you mind stepping outside?"
"Uhhh...sure.?"
We get out and stand shivering in the windy cold as calm cop explains that they've got a real problem with that road being a major drug corridor, "and your car looks a bit suspect."
(An '84 Camry with no exhaust, 311k miles, ripped seats, and more cracks than windshield?)
The response in my mind was, "Hm. I though Drug Dealers went into that particular profession so they can have nice things, like cars,"
But my spoken response was, "Yeah, I don't blame ya. I'd pull that thing over."
That seemed to take the edge off while the Drug Dog In Training went through the car and found only an open bag of Chex Mix.
A few more minutes of us shivering while Calm Cop talked to us about triathlons and we were allowed to go.
Until we got within 20 minutes of Boise, that was the only excitement.

Tomorrow, meeting the Ninja.