I got off work around 1:15 in the a forkin’ m, and was starving. My stomach was collapsed on itself, like a volleyball with no air. And I had a powerful hankering for a Filet O Fish samlich.
When I was working until 2:30, the McDonald’s near our house was always serving breakfast by the time I got there. But since they pulled-forward our schedule by an hour, I’ve had to make adjustments to my middle-of-the-night fatfusion.
To tell you the truth, I preferred breakfast. I could order a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit, and it was perfect. They’re easy to eat with one hand, don’t have any sauces to get all over the steering wheel, the roof of my car, and across the back window. Plus, it’s just the right amount of “food,” for that time of day.
Hamburgers are more complicated affairs, and the Filet O Fish takes too long. I know this, because I ordered one last week and sat at the drive-thru window like an idiot for about ten minutes.
So, even though it wasn’t really what I wanted last night, I opted for a Big Mac. I figured they must have Mac components already on-hand, and construction would only take seconds. And I was right; a hot ‘n’ heavy sack was passed to me in no time.
As is the tradition, I pulled forward a few yards, removed the sambwich from the bag, and prepared it for travel. I can’t take it home, you see, because Andy (Snoop Manny Mann) always makes things miserable. He hits me with his intense border collie stare, and wills me to surrender half (at the very least) of whatever food is on-hand. So, I try to gobble it down while in-transit.
And as I was taking bite two, while entering the main road through town, I bit down on a nasty-ass pickle slice; the thing slid out of the burger, and slapped across my chin. Dammit! I hate McDonald’s pickles. They’re the proverbial turd in the punch bowl.
So, I made all necessary adjustments, while driving toward our house, and a cop pulled me over. He emerged from the darkness with his lights flashing, his headlights going off and on, and all manner of scary craziness. I pulled to the side of the road, and got my driver’s license out of my pocket.
It took a while, but the guy finally approached, shined a flashlight in my face, and asked to see my ID. And here’s what happened next, with my silent thoughts in parentheses:
Officer: I pulled you over because you were weaving all over the road.
Me: I was trying to get the pickles off my Big Mac.
(Did that sound sarcastic? You’d better watch it, Kay, or this guy might beat the living shit out of you.)
Officer: Have you been drinking, sir?
(Ha! For the first time in my life, I can answer that question truthfully.)
Me: No, I haven’t.
Officer: Why are your eyes so watery?
Me: They are?
Officer: Are you sure you haven’t had a few drinks tonight?
(He doesn’t believe you. You’re going to be arrested.)
Me: I’m driving home from work. I haven’t had anything to drink, nothing at all.
Officer: See the tip of this pen?
Officer: Do you see it?
(It’s four inches from my face. What am I, Helen Keller?)
Me: I see it.
Officer: OK, I’m going to move it around, and I want you to follow it with your eyes, without moving your head.
He moved it around in a pattern that I think spelled YOU’RE GOING DOWN in cursive, and I followed it, as instructed.
Officer: What are you doing out here so late?
(I already told you.)
Me: Coming home from work.
Officer: Is that right?
(He thinks you’re lying. You will be beaten, then taken to a federal penitentiary.)
Officer: Just sit here for a few minutes, while I check your license.
He was gone for a long time, with his lights still flashing and illuminating all the houses in the neighborhood. I was reasonably sure I was out of the woods, and was able to breathe normally again.
(Heh, Helen Keller. Why does Helen Keller masturbate with her left hand? Because she moans with her right!)
Finally my new friend returned, handed over my license, and told me to drive a little more carefully in the future. I assured him I would, and we parted company. At the next corner I went right, and he went left.
I then finished the Big Mac while parked in front of our house. And it wasn’t pipin’ hot anymore, dammit. Perhaps I should invest in one of Sunshine’s hands-free scone-racks, and have it retrofitted for burgers? I don’t think I’d do well in prison, I really don’t. Plus, I don’t like fast food that’s gone cold.
When the cop was insisting I’d been drinking, and I was unable to convince him otherwise, it was a little scary. In fact, it seemed to go better in the past, with a few beers under my belt.
Oh well. At least it wasn’t this bad.
Have you ever been accused of something you were completely innocent of? By a cop, or a boss, or a friend? Tell us about it, won’t you?
Also, if you have any stories to tell about being pulled over while driving, we’d like to hear those as well.
And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.