Officer Keith Bohn smirked inside the darkened interior of his police cruiser feeling smug about his stealth position in a used car lot where he was hidden from casual view. Across the street a wedding reception had been raging most of the night, and was just now beginning to wind down. A quick glance at the clock on the radio revealed that it was nearing one AM, a time when most couples had left the reception to a younger, more rowdy crowd.
When Officer Bohn looked up from the clock, his patience was rewarded as he watched one of the Brides Maids say her good-byes at the foyer of the Odd Fellows Hall, and then make her way towards her car. As she did so, officer Bohn had a clear vantage point in which to observe her. As she opened the door to her silver Toyota Highlander, Officer Bohn had a split second of time to see the hem of her maroon dress slip over the mid-way point of her thigh and smiled as the wide bands of her thigh-high stockings were revealed. It was a glorious view, but short lived as the woman slid her long legs towards the pedals of the vehicle and then shut the door in one fluid motion. Officer Bohn's carefully chosen position was not revealed even as the woman pulled out just in front of him and preceded to drive down the deserted street, the yellowish glow of the multiple streetlights glinting off its metallic surface.
For a few blocks Officer Bohn was content just to follow the vehicle, watching for the tell-tale signs of an inebriated driver. That patience began to wear thin however when he thought about the skimpy, tight fitting bridesmaid outfit she was wearing, and even more importantly, the accompanying thigh-high stockings and equally flattering high heels she had adorning her long legs. Thinking of that, the metallic surface of her silver car only reflected more light when he flipped the switch to his blue light bar, and saw the early morning darkness resonate with the pulse of intense blue strobes.
As Keith cautiously walked up to the driver's side window of the expensive sport utility vehicle, through the rear window he could see the woman reaching into the center console, perhaps to innocently grab the necessary driver information police officer's always asked for, or perhaps to grab for a breath mint in a pathetic attempt to cover her alcoholic breath. Either way he was disappointed. He had been in hopes that this woman would have tried to swoon the Officer by pulling up the hemline of her dress, and accenting her cleavage as best she could.
"Good evening miss. I'll need to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance," he said as he shined the powerful light of his menacing looking flashlight in her face so as to temporarily blind her. As she squinted against the bright light, Officer Bohn danced the beam inside the interior of the car, presumably searching for illegal contraband, when in fact he was taking a look at her long legs that stretched out towards the operating pedals of her car. To his surprise however, the look netted its own reward when he saw her black high heels lying on their sides on the passenger's floorboard.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to put your shoes on Miss. In the State of Maine, driving barefoot is a citable offense as it really is for your own safety."
"I know," she said meekly as she handed the officer the paperwork he asked for. "I'm just not used to wearing high heels and it felt funny driving in them."
Keith pretended to look over the paperwork, when in fact it was much more interesting to watch the young lady reach over the center console and begin to place her feet back into her shoes. It would have been a simple task, but the high heels had the added inconvenience of a single tiny strap that wrapped around her ankle and she fought for a minute getting each one of the buckles to lace through the tiny slit. Keith knew it was probably the nervousness at being stopped by a police officer that made the menial task so difficult, but he chose to ask her about the dexterity from a different point of view.
"Miss, have you been drinking tonight?"
Keith already knew the answer when he saw her eyes grow big and her face lose all expression, then just as quickly as she looked up at him; she looked away, pretending to adjust the strap on her shoe as she muttered an answer into the darkened interior of the car.
"A little I guess."
"A little huh? Well I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to step out of the car Miss and submit to a field sobriety test. Are you familiar with what that consists of?"
The young woman only nodded to the officer and quietly removed her seat belt and stepped out of the vehicle. As she did, once again Officer Bohn saw the hemline of her maroon satin Bridesmaids dress gently get tugged up her legs just high enough for the stocking tops of her stockings to show. This time however, he was much closer and got a much better view and had to suppress his pleasure by forcing himself not to grin.
"Okay Miss Boynton, why don't we start with trying to walk in a straight line? Using your feet heel-to-toe, try and walk along this parking lot stripe without using your balance. Do you think you can do that?"
"I'll try," she said and placed her right foot out first, then placed her left foot just in front of it and tried to alternate her feet as she tried to walk the ten feet or so Officer Bohn wanted her to walk a straight line in.
As Keith watched the attractive young woman stretch her arms out beside her, and tried her best to prove her sobriety, he could not help but watch her sexy black stiletto heels, making their slow, deliberate clicking sounds of heel tip upon hard asphalt. Twice he watched the heel dip into a wide crack in the pavement making the young woman lose her balance and catch herself by stepping off the line. On the second stagger, she looked at him, he hands on her hips.
"Can I at least take my heels off? I am not used to wearing them and I at least deserve a fighting chance at this?"
"I suppose that is only fair," he said as he opened up the rear door of his police cruiser so she could have a place to sit as she removed them. As she fiddled once again with the tiny silver buckles of her ankle straps, Keith honestly tried to assess her drunkenness. Even with a few years of law enforcement experience, he honestly could not determine if she was impaired by alcohol or not. This time she had less trouble with slipping the silver prong from out of the hole in the leather strap, but Keith knew removing her shoes was not a real test of mental dexterity.
"This is kind of ironic isn't it? I can't pass the sobriety test with my shoes on and I can't drive my car with them off either," she said with a smile as she pulled each shoe off in turn and tossed them gently onto the asphalt pavement of the parking lot. "You never said whether or not you are going to cite me for that infraction?"
