We’re driving east on River Road, towards Santa Rosa on a sunny Californian morning. The driver of the oncoming Highway Patrol car waves at Shannon and she raises a hand in reply.
“You know him?” I ask.
“Sure, that’s officer Hiss,” she says. “I owe my last two speeding tickets to him. We’re cool. The one that did piss me off was a couple of weeks ago when he was driving in the opposite direction. He spun around and then stopped me right there. I always feel like I’m in Smokey and the Bandit with him.”
“So why don’t you stick to the speed limit – then he’s just Hissing in the wind?” She cackles with laughter. “You must have been pretty Hissed about that second ticket. Boy, that was really Hissing in action, wasn’t it?” We’re both laughing our guts out. “But what you really need,” I say between laughs, “is a Hiss-terectomy.”