My life as a hubub's hooligan

You'd never guess it by looking at me, but I'm dangerous. That could be true, but probably not.
I've previously stated my lack of driving skills. Well this story is another living testament to my lack of road rules. Although I can't remember the reason, I had somehow pissed off my parents enough for them to disable my vehicle, literally. They did something so that it wouldn't start. When I let them know that I had a math final and I really needed to get to school, my mom let me borrow her Durango. I was as usual, already late for my math final, I was pissed about my cars disability and crying cause my mom and I had just finished the royalist of rumbles ending in "I think you should just go back to Canada Jodi". On the 10 minute drive to Chandler Gilbert Community College I had managed exceed the speed limit by about 40 mph. I was going 80 in a 45. It was about 9:30 on April 20th. A chipper motor cop pulled me over. I pulled myself together, and rolled down the window, copper said "have you any idea how fast you were going?" "no sir" I meekly answer. He takes a look at me and says "ma'am can you step out of the car please with your hands behind your head?" In retrospect I can see how I might look suspicious, puffy eyes, sparkly t-shirt, math books strewn about the car at 9:30 on the morning of national weed day, I get it. But this cop really had it in for me. He had me walk a line, breathalyze, point and flex while balancing on one foot, he checked my tongue and eyes, had be say my alphabet backwards, count backwards in increments of 8 and asked me a series of questions like, have you had any illegal drugs in the past month? week? day? no?. He then called for back-up had my mom's car searched and had me pat down. This process put me at 10:30, my final was over. I got my first ticket and was told to appear in court for criminal speeding. A couple weeks later in court I was as usual late, but I had an accomplice. We sat down beside each other with little contact. An hour later I looked over and gestured a hello, the gentleman smiled, acknowledging my gesture. I then realized that this gentleman had two tear drops beside his eyes. Thinking that he had to be some wanna be gangster, I gingerly asked "so what are your tear drops for?" His face immediately dropped, "you can see them can you?" he said. "Yep, what are you in some kind of gang?" I said with a hint of sarcasm. "Uh huh" the gentleman answered. I asked him if this 'gang' was local, and he told me he was from Fresno AND that his gang's name was the Bloods. Now I may be a white suburbian, but I do know a bit about the Bloods and Crips, and tear drops mean murder. Still thinking that this guy is playing cool, I continue to question his statements. Asking him what his position within the gang was and why he had joined. He answered my questions and then lifted his shirt revealing a burnt bloods emblem that resided on his stomach. I then realized that this was no tall tale, he was a legitimate 'G'. Trying to now keep MY cool I say "yea my boyfriend and I play bloods and crips in ping pong", this statement was true but definitely not appropriate. Now that I'd got his complete life story, he felt the need to return the favor and I suddenly felt the need to leave. As he started asking questions I quickly became more and more ambiguous. He then asked, "hey do you drive a white bug?" I started to think, wow, I'm the next tear drop, I'm done. My throat got tight and I said "maybe". I began to feel bad for him, he was clearly going to jail after this conversation and he was trying to make a friend. After discussing religious beliefs(which by the way, his god is a coin that lives in his wallet) and hobbies, he asked for my number. I got his instead and finished my courtly business. He offered to scare my friends and I thought, man this guy should come to church, betcha no one invites him to go. So I told my mom, and she took the phone number and tore it up. To this day I get random phone calls from a friends pretending to be my gang friend.