Mistaken identity. I guess all guys on orange motorcycles wearing silver helmets look the same. Apparently my evil motorcycle riding twin had eluded officers on surface streets. When I was spotted cruising up the interstate a little bit later, I was public enemy #1.
I was pulled over, but the cop did not approach me. He stayed in his car, and used his PA to tell me step off the bike, and raise my hands. I then stood there like that for about 3 minutes until 2 other patrol cars arrived. Now that back up had arrived I was told to remove my helmet and lay spread eagle face down. I was then cuffed and hauled up to see 3 officers, one picking me up, two with weapons drawn but not pointed.
They asked where my ID was, and questioned about my recent path through their fine city. After about 10 minutes, they began to realize I wasn’t their guy.
Their guy - NC plates
Me - GA plates
Their guy - no bags
Me- tail bag and duffle
Their guy - t-shirt
Me - Blue, Black, and white motorcycle jacket.
Anyway, cuffs removed, kind of an apology, along the line of “we have to do our job, blah, blah.”
Damn cuffs do hurt, especially when put on none too gently.