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Saturday, September 10, 2005

Guess Who's (NOT) Coming to Dinner?

Two days after my last encounter with Corp. Joe, I've pretty much forgotten about my ticket, no big deal anyway, right? Maybe I can call my Dr. and get a note or something and get out of it. Who cares's only twenty dollars. I'm in Dudley DoRight mode again going to go help a friend mow his grass. He has a big yard and I get to use the riding mower, get a little sun and help out a buddy. We set record time for his yard, 30 minutes even, never been done that fast before. By himself it takes 3,4 hours. 30 minutes! Hallellujah!! Cold drink, rest and then it's time to go, maybe help somebody else. I'm getting good at this, putting others before myself. I am Super Christian! I'm a little tired as the sun has taken some of my Kryptonian strength away, maybe a nap is in order, a little rest anyway, before it's time to pick up the kids. I drive north a half-mile then turn right , adjust the air, put on my safety-sunglasses, turn up Jars of Clay and zone out for the 3 mile stretch of 4-lane know as Peak Boulevard before my turn-off to York St. I quickly assume a cruising speed of 60 mph, adjusting to the other traffic. At about mile 2 I notice a MPD cruiser parked on the left facing the opposite direction, I adjust to 55, and swing right by him, still jamming to Jars of Clay. But wait!!!!Suddenly he pulls out and doesn't turn around, no, he follows me, and yes, I know the drill. Pull over, blah, blah blah. I'm concocting a story in my head about how another officer already gave me a ticket two days ago and yes, I'm wearing my seat belt....... The rearview mirror tells a different story. For who should appear but Santa Claus and his eight tiny reindeer or, is it really.... Corp. Joe! My friend! I see him and shake my head and he says;
Corp. Joe : Man you have got to slow down!
Me: Man we have got to stop meeting like this.
Joe: Do you know how fast you were going?
Me. Not really, around 50, 55?
Joe: You were going 55 mph.
Me: And the speed limit is...?
Joe: The speed limit is 45 and we give you 9 miles over out here and.....
Me: Maybe you and me are supposed to be friends! (DUH)
Joe takes my licence one more time but passes on the insurance verification and comes back with a ticket that he has me sign, then says;
Joe: I'm going to give you a warning this time since I gave you a ticket two days ago, but you've got to slow down!!
Me: Okay.
He never once congratulated me for wearing my seatbelt or said he wanted to be my friend. Maybe he doesn't need friends like me. You know, always in trouble. As I was about to invite him to dinner he quickly walked away and I put my left blinker on and drove home convinced that I am a marked man. My red truck sends up a red flag all over town. I whisper to people I don't even know,"Be careful, the poe-leece are-a watchin' everythin' your'e a'doin so you better be towin' the line. I think they appreciate me for that. At least that's what their eyes are telling me as I slowly step away pointing my finger at them the whole time,and get in my red (flag) pickup and take the backroads home......................................


Aunt Jo said...

Hi Uncle Joe,
What a great story! I knew it would be worth the long long wait! You are a real hottie (oops!) I mean hoot! I appreciate your humor, I look forward to seeing more of it. :o)~AJ

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Anonymous said...

wow, you really did have a string of bad luck there. i was back here, checking out the beginnings of your blog, in honor of your blogoversary, and i find that you were previously an outlaw?