Martha sat in the car, monitoring the speed of other motorists. She was parked on the side of Interstate 80 East in Hercules, near the exit for Highway 4. It was a warm, humid afternoon in May, and business had been slow so far. Everyone was being a good, safe driver today, and fortunately for her, that meant less headaches and stress.
She drank some more coffee from her mug, her big brown eyes still glued to the scanner. Physically, she was a thick, muscular woman of mixed European descent, standing 5'10" tall, and had dark brown shoulder length hair that was a little curly. Her skin complexion was a natural light brown, giving her a distinctive Mediterranean look.
Twenty minutes passed before a Mustang zoomed by, doing 95mph. She put the scanner down, pushed her glasses up her nose, and started the engine.
"Now we're talkin'," she said.
When she got home later, she stripped off her tight, stiff CHP uniform and jumped into the shower. Afterwards, she sat behind her computer in nothing but a thong, checking her email. She then logged into an internet dating website that she was a member of. She hadn't been active in a while and discovered she had fourteen new messages.
Most of them she read and deleted, either because the men were too old or not her type. Of the remainder, two seemed interesting, an Asian man and a black guy. She emailed both of them and logged out.
The next day, Martha was off and slept in. After showering, she went to the gym and pumped some iron, concentrating especially on her upper body, butt, and legs. As she used the leg press machine and did some squats, she saw some guys checking her out. Their eyes bulged out at the sight of her huge, muscular glutes, thighs, and calves.
She approached one of them. "Hey, can you spot me while I bench press?" she asked, smiling.
When she returned home, she checked her email again. One was from Matt, the Asian guy from the internet dating site. She called him and they later met at a Starbuck's on Solano Avenue in Berkeley.
"So, is this your first time doing online dating?" she asked.
"No, I've tried it on and off over the years," he replied, grinning pleasantly. He was around her age, late twenties, and had a rugged, clean shaven face. He had a crew cut, a dark tan, and an athletic build. "How about you? Are you a newbie to this?"
She laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"It's just the word 'newbie.' I haven't heard it in a while, that's all. . .yes, this is my first time. So far, it's been interesting. I've corresponded with some nice people and have also been hit on by guys old enough to be my dad."
He chuckled. "I've heard other women tell me the same thing."
"Have older women written you or sent you a wink?"
"Once or twice. The majority of them are around my age. Have you met anyone else in person?"
"You're the second. I'm only doing this 'cause some of my friends had success with it. I'm very opposed to the idea of this because I prefer meeting people in person, but finally gave in to my friends' advice. Plus the fact I'll try anything once."
"Don't worry, it's not so bad. It may seem weird 'cause you don't know anyone and people come from all walks of life, but basically it's just another outlet to meet folks."
"That's good to know."
"Just don't take it too seriously, relax and chill, and have fun."
She smiled, drinking some tea. "Okay."
He crossed his legs. "So, tell me what it's like being a CHP officer. What's the most dangerous situation you've experienced?"
She thought for a moment. "Uhmm, I'd have to say when me and some other officers chased this guy all the way from Oakland to Sacramento. He had just stolen this Lamborghini from the shop and was clocking up to speeds of 130mph on the freeway. It was like a scene out of The Fast and the Furious, cutting in front of cars and trucks every five seconds."
"Man," he said, shaking his head. "How did you eventually nab this guy?"
"We cornered him into this ditch. He tried to run for it but I went after him and brought him down. We even had a mini wrestling match going."
He laughed. "Boy, I'd hate to be pinned down by you," Matt said, checking out her brawny frame.
She shot him a naughty grin. "Maybe you'd like it. . .how's business at your motorcycle shop?"
He let the previous comment digest in his brain before answering. "Great. We're having one of our best years. You mentioned in one of your emails that you ride, too. Do you own a bike?"
Martha drank some more tea. "Yes, I do. I have an old Honda. You said you're a Harley man, right?"
He nodded proudly. "You like 'em?"
"They're cool."
"Maybe we can go on a little road trip somewhere."
"That sounds fun."
* * *
A week later, on a Saturday afternoon, she chased a speeding SUV across the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. When she walked over to the passenger side window she saw three young men wearing football jerseys and baseball caps. All of their faces were red and the distinct smell of alcohol reeked from the interior. Martha saw the guy in the passenger seat discreetly pass a brown paper bag to the man in the back.
She looked at the driver. "Do you know how fast you were going, sir?"
He shook his head, playing innocent. He looked like your typical jock, frat boy type.
"93 mph."
"Ooooh," he slurred sarcastically. "Sorry, ma'aaaam."
"Apologies are not acceptable. Apologies won't prevent an accident, and they won't prevent people from getting killed. Let me see your license and registration please."
He threw them at her.
"Step out of the vehicle, sir." She radioed for backup, and then looked at the other passengers. "Oh, could you gentlemen step out, too, and place all your alcohol on the ground."
They did so begrudgingly. She looked at the four bags of liquor on the asphalt. Soon, two other CHP cars arrived. The other officers watched the group while she went back to her vehicle and checked the driver's information. She returned minutes later, where the three men were standing in a spread eagle position against the SUV. They had already been frisked by the other officers.
She gave the driver back his information and handed him a ticket as well.
"Three hundred bucks!" he said angrily. "I ain't payin' that!"
"Fine. They'll just increase the penalty if you don't. Can you guys walk in a straight line for us?"
"Fuuuuck you, biiiitch!" he slurred, ripping up the ticket and throwing it in her face.
Martha shook her head disappointedly and wrote him a new one with a higher penalty. He laughed at it, tore it up, and flung it at her viciously. "I ain't payin' shit!" he said.
His buddies joined in on the rowdy laughter. She then read them their rights while the other officers handcuffed them and escorted them to a car.
The driver stared at her with hostility. "We're gonna get even with you, bitch. Just watch. My old man's a rich ass lawyer. He'll have us out soon and you're the one that's gonna pay."
"You mentioned being a bodybuilder," Matt said. "Have you been in any competitions?"
She nodded anxiously.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked, concerned.
"Just a rough day at work." She sighed, thinking a moment. "Yeah, I won a few. . .I'm thinking of entering another contest."
"Are you sure you're all right?
She briefly told him about the incident with the frat boys. "That's it. I don't wanna talk about work anymore."
"Okay." He drank some beer, looking at her empty glass. "Want another apple martini?"
"Sure. Hopefully it'll erase the memory of what happened today."
After leaving the restaurant, they strolled down Solano Avenue. It was a clear, muggy night and the thoroughfare was thronged with people. She wore a tight, faded Star Wars shirt, khaki shorts, and flip flops. He noticed she wasn't wearing a bra and her big nipples were pressed hard against the fabric. She caught him looking a few times but remained impassive. He was dressed in a sleeveless shirt, tight jeans, and sandals. She checked out his nicely shaped ass from time to time.
"I forgot to mention I like your name," he said.
"I never did. Too homey and plain but that's why my mom chose it." She pushed her glasses up her nose. "I like Matt. It's short and catchy."
He smiled. "I agree." They did a little window shopping. "What's your favorite Star Wars movie?"
"The Empire Strikes Back. I know I'm a nerd, that's why I'm wearing this shirt. You should see my DVD, model, and action figure collection."
He raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding."
She shook her head, smiling. "Let's get some ice cream and head to my place, and I'll blow your mind away."
Her apartment was several blocks up Solano, and upon arriving, she immediately opened the windows in the warm, stuffy unit. Then she switched on a fan and walked barefoot to the kitchen. While she scooped ice cream into two bowls, he sat on a love seat, staring in awe at the walls that were plastered with numerous movie posters. One wall was completely devoted to action figures and models from the Star Wars films, as well as ones from The Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, and other movies. The still packaged merchandise either hung from hooks or sat on shelves.
She handed him a bowl and sat next to him. "So what do you think?"
He shook his head. "Amazing. You're hardcore. They're worth more money if they're still in the boxes, right?"
"Correct."