I was almost arrested this morning, because of pickle slices. …What? You need more information? Well, as many of you know, I don’t really like to talk about my personal life. But I guess it’ll be OK.
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?
(WTF?)
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?
Me: Yeah.
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.)
Me: Yessir.
Officer: Just sit here for a few minutes, while I check your license.
Me: OK.
(Whew!)
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.
Jeff,
It appears you need to obtain a copy of this DVD:
BUSTED: The Citizen’s Guide to Surviving Police Encounters
http://www.flexyourrights.org/busted
I’m serious. Get that DVD and watch it. Make the wife watch it. Make the kids watch it when they’re old enough to drive.
Second, he had absolutely no business asking you why you are out so late or where you were headed. When asked intrusive questions like that you simply reply “I’m sorry officer, I know you’re just trying to do your job but I don’t wish to answer that question”.
As someone who has worked with LE and comes from a LE family I’m afraid I must report that in this day and age Officer Friendly isn’t. He isn’t your friend and he isn’t there to help you. You are a suspect to him. An arrest waiting to be made and most of all a threat. In fact, things are so bad that it might be wise to equip your vehicle with surreptitious recoding devices so that you won’t have to rely just on the officer’s word during an encounter. That way if you are abused, which happens all the time now, you have evidence. I know that sounds extreme but it could be the difference between jail time and exoneration. Trust me on this.
I know it sounds extreme but it’s not a bit nice out there. It’s a crazy new world we live in.
My Dad was going to be a cop as the story goes. His side is they nixed him when he moved outside the city limits. Mom said it was because he showed up at graduation wearing an Hawaiian shrit. 1955…Cincinnati, Ohio…Hawaiian shirt. I like Mom’s side of the story.
The guys here are pretty cool all in all. County and State politiza only. Very small town!
The bunker cam is a hoot! A friggin’ CADDY no less!!!
Thanks for that laugh too Jeff!
ShinyRod, I want to know how it ends, Was there justice??
I was getting home late after being designated driver and dropping everyone off. I failed to use my blinker at the traffic light in my little ‘burb and a cop pulled me over.
He asked if I’d had anything to drink.
I was like, sure at like 7 oclock. I had a glass of wine.
Nothing since.
Nope, I was the designated driver. You pulled me over to see if you could catch a drunk didn’t you.
He just glared at me. Then he kind of smiled and told me to use my blinker next time.
HA!
When I get stopped by a cop they always ask, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” And I always reply, “Is it because I’m white?”
For you Carla, I will render the verdict.
Seems as though they were stacking things up against me. The girl stated in the trial that I came in the door boisterous and loud, shouting at the clients (I have a loud voice but it is not without volume control). She stated I beat the woman with the fly swatter and she had taken pictures to prove it. The pictures showed a hardly distiguishable red mark on her shoulder about the size of a misquito bite. When she was asked when she took the picture, the girl stated the next day after I witnessed the incident. My lawyer looked at her and stated, “If you knew he hit the woman, why did you wait until the next day to report the incident? Why didn’t you contact the manager and report the incident immediately when it happened? She said,”I don’t know, I wasn’t sure”. The lawyer then asked her “Does the manger have an after hours contact number?” She said “Yes” then he asked her “If you were attacked or witness somebody being attacked, would you call the police?” she said “Yes” then the lawyer delivered the knock out punch. “Then you mean to tell me that you witness the client being hit and you decided it could wait until the next day to report it? She could only say “yes”. The lawyer said to the judge, “I rest my case”, the judge asked the prosecutor if she had any remarks but the prosecutor could only state that she rested her case too! The judge stated that the court was at recess until she returned with her verdict. As I was sitting there waiting the manager comes over and says to me “I’m sorry for what happened, I should have investigated it more before I made the report. All this could have been avoided.” She doesn’t know how much I wanted to reach across the table and beat the crap out of her and the girl. Moments later, the judge returned to courtroom. We all rose, and she stated that the defendent please remain standing for the verdict. She then said “I find this case very reprehensable that two innocent people have been put through a gross misjustice. A client who has what can only be described as a self inflicted scratch on her shoulder and an former employee that has had to endure an unwarranted judicial, fiscal and emotional event. I fault the prosecution for not properly investigating this with unbiased impunity. I fault you miss for not following proper procedures, when you feel an mistreatment has occured to a handicapped individual. I am just reprehensed at all of this. Mr. Blah Blah, you are free to go. The court finds you not guilty by reasonable doubt.” WTF, I start thinking? Reasonable doubt? I didn’t hit the woman, this should be innocent period. WTF? The lawer leans over to me and says, “This is the best you will get”. “If they didn’t have the picture. This would have only been hearsay and it would have been her word against yours. The picture shows reasonable doubt.” Well, am I vendicated? Yes, I heard the company went out of business a few years later when a couple of their patients died due to mishandling and improper drug dispensing procedures. All this over a fly swatter and a shower mat. Seems that when I dropped the mat on the floor, the sound startled the girl and she thought I had hit the woman on the back with the fly swatter. The fly swatter was never in the shower, it was left on the kitchen table and I placed it back in the utility closet before the shower event even happened. The girl never apologized and I never got my job back. I also found out later that the girl was diagnosed with uvarian cancer. I really feel sorry for her.
@Carla – is there ever any justice?
You never got your job back???? What? I hope you sued them.
Misselle, I have to constantly remember “Vengence is mine sayeth the Lord” and let it go. I think they all got theirs and I have to leave at that.
I too was accused of sleeping with the farm manager at a farm where I worked. HE blamed his affair on ME. He was cheating on his wife with some other woman, wanted to keep seeing the other woman and said that we were having the affair. I had NO IDEA. His wife came on to the farm and I was all nice and pleasent (like I always am) and she starts yelling at me. Calling me homewrecker blah blah blah. I had to laugh. I had no idea what she was screaming about.
Holy cow, I would say there was no justice there. You were not fully exonerated. In everyone’s rush to be/do the right thing there were mutiple casualties. The girl who thought what she thought (probably still inwardly cringes when she thinks about it, unless shes dead) the challenged lady who wanted to suck on the flyswatter and you the person who actually did the right thing and got unjustly punished for it. Sheese, I wish people would just come right out and ask. Before jumping to wild conclusions. No good deed goes unpunished. I am disappointed in the out-come. Sucks, glad you prevailed and moved on.
I just found this and there are NO words. Really no words.
http://www.holytaco.com/2008/09/23/worlds-most-disgusting-apartment-is-in-houston/
Thoughts??
and this…
http://www.holytaco.com/2008/09/22/choreographed-dances-make-god-happy/
sure. blame it on the pickles.
doesn’t everyone?
Carla – please dont ‘ever do that again. My God.
I’m inquiring about the “fully furnished apartment?” And– I think I found your cats!!
Carla, I’m speechless. tiff, will you hold me whilst I cry? Sychronized dancing for Christ? I was waiting for the over the back finish with a split, but it never came.
That apartment is almost as bad as the house on Animal Planet that they found over 120 cats in.
Accused or convicted? :-O
Some things just have to be shared with others and I figured that ya’ll were the best people to truly appreciate it.
Sorry tiff, I really am. What got me was that it was a woman’s appartment. A woman!!! A woman!
I will NEVER complain about a messy house or tracked dirt again.
Disgusting apartment: Mmmm. What-a-Burger!
“Your shit is my bread and butter!”
This just in Surf Reporters!!!
Pa. man chews through belly-busting, 15-lb. burger
It took Jeff Kay 4 hours and 39 minutes to finish a marathon. A meat marathon, that is. The 5-foot-11, 180-pound Scranton, Pennsylvania manager is the first person to eat a monstrosity called the Beer Barrel Belly Bruiser: a 15-pound burger with toppings and a bun that brought the total weight to 20.2 pounds.
The mountain of beef is the product of Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub, about 100 miles northeast of Pittsburgh in Clearfield.
Kay, 42, of Scranton, said he was surprised he finished the sandwich Monday. “About three hours into it, things got tough and then I tasted pickles,” he said.
And Jeff Kay, ever the aging hipster, ate the burger ‘ironically.’
Jeff’s aging retrograde, if it’s said he’s 42.
Nice try, Shiny Rod, but I’m thinkin’ you made that whole darned thing up.
OK Jeff, here’s my true story (its a bit long but go with it). You can call me a square or uptight if you want, but if I see you I will kick your ass. I still get upset thinking about this.
Summer 1979. I was 16. I spent most of the summer away at camp, and when it ended I had about 5 weeks until school started. I had lots of time with nothing to do and I was encouraged at hien to “find a job till school starts”. OK. The local Eckerd Drug Store (this was a regional chain which is long gone, think of something like People’s Drugs or CVS) has a sign in the window in the local strip mall – help wanted. Having held a similar job the prior summer I was eminently qualified. I rode my bike over there (pre bike helmet days), went in, filled out a form, was interviewed by the manager, and told I was hired, subject to passing a polygraph test. I was given some forms and a page with an address.
The place I to which I was directed was the office of a company which handled “security” for various companies and had a contract with the drug store to polygraph employees. The office was in a rundown office park on wrong side of the tracks, about a 25 minute drive from the store. I still remember, I had to borrow my mother’s car to get these as it was too far to go by bike.
I arrive at the designated time and was soon strapped in to the apparatus. I was given the usual test questions to measure my response and then the real questions stated: “Have I ever been arrested”; “have I ever stolen anything from school or a place of work”, “have I ever been in jail or a juvenile home or work camp” etc., etc, etc.
Then he started with “have you ever used drugs” and I said “no” which was god’s own truth (and to this day I am 45 and have never used any kinds of drugs, including marijuana; disclaimer: I do not define alcohol as a drug). However, the reading on the machine appeared to indicate that I was lying, with the implication being that I do use drugs. He asked me again. Same answer from me, same response from the apparatus. He did this again and I gave the same answer again, and apparently my body’s physical response indicated again that I was lying.
He then tried a different tack, telling me that everything discussed there was confidential, and that even if I did use some drugs it would not automatically disqualify me from working, as the store’s “security assessment” only wanted to know if I had some kind of expensive drug addiction which would drive me to steal from them, but that if I had some occasional marijuana use that is was OK. I again said “no”, but apparently the machine said I was lying. He tried a last time, “its OK, most guys your age do go to some parties with their friends and try a little pot, so we have no problem here if this is what you do or may have done”. I again said no, I have never done this not even once, although if you were about 16 in 1979 and in my high school people like me were as rare as an Eskimo with a suntan. Again the apparatus made me a liar.
He then asked me if I have never used drugs, why the machine would repeatedly indicate that I was lying, and I again gave him god’s own truth: my best friend in high school started using marijuana about 6 months before and this really bothered me. Because it bothered me so much he then stopped being my friend and began to hangout out with the druggie crowd, and would ridicule me for my abstinence. The examiner gave a smirk, which would be translated today as “yeah right!”.
Then the test was over. He took out a form, wrote something on it, put it in a white envelope and sealed it. He handed it to me and said to take it back to the manager of the store. I assumed I had failed the test, and so I was not going to take the envelope back to the store manager. In my mother’s car in the parking lot I tore open the envelope to see exactly how they documented the results, expecting it to say “big fat liar because based on market research, common sense, the bible, and the laws of the State of Texas, there is no such thing as a 16 year old living in suburban America in 1979 who does not use marijuana, and this guy says he never used any”. However to my surplice on the page was the name of the drug store, the name of the security firm, and two boxes, “pass” and “fail”. The “pass” box was checked.
I drove home, put the test in a similar white envelope I took from my father’s desk drawer and returned to the store. I handed to the manager who opened it, look at the result, shook my hand and said “welcome aboard, can you start tomorrow”.
Actually, it’s true but I just changed that name to protect the guilty. Here’s the link.
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5jc4dvH8q74_WXPP7603ZDaXGnb0QD93S1LBG0
Accused of something I didn’t do? You bet your sweet ass I have!
When I was 16 I worked at a Chik-Fil-A that was on the main drag in my hometown. Well, during the MLK parade an employee of ours hurled a potato over the building and into the parade almost hitting some old woman who screamed bloody murder and swore that it hit her ankle.
Well, I stepped out back for a smoke completely unaware of the happenings and suddenly four squad cars pulled into the parking lot, lights a-blazin’, and one of them jumped out and screamed at me to get my ass inside.
Well, I wandered back in and walked into the dining room (this ain’t your average Chik-Fil-A) and all of my co-employees were standing around looking really nervous. Well, I started walking towards the crowd when a real life crackhead threw his finger up at me and said “Yeea, dat be him” and before I knew it I was in cuffs and on my way to a squad car. Luckily for me the rest of the staff let out a collective WTF! and explained that I was inside the whole time. After watching the video of my frying some chicken the cops let me go.
Months later they tried to subpeana me as a witness but I got kicked out of the DA’s office for threatening to sue their asses for unlawful arrest (no miranda and I was a minor). But thats a whole nother story.
Oh man do I have a story. I was shopping at *gulp* Urban Outfitters, and after trying on some clothes, i left the dressing room to PAY for my things. While waiting in line, some nazi dressing room attendant with a nose ring comes charging at me like a bull, accusing me of SHOPLIFTING. She had found some tag in my dressing room that she “claims” wasn’t there when she opened up the room for me. What in the ever-loving hell? After much convincing on my part, and a close encounter with a cavity search, she finally let the issue go. But still, very scary stuff. Needless to say, its not the overpriced goods that keeps me away from that store these days…
Stuart, he was trying to shake you because the machine was actually stating you were telling the truth. If the indicators had changed differently each time you answered the question, it would have indicated you were being deceptive and trying to fool the machine. Isn’t it great to know now that by law, lie detectors can not be used as a basis for employment. Although you can still “screen” applicants with a lie detector test.
You’re right, Knucklehead! I feel like, well, for lack of a better term, a “knucklehead!” LOL
How does Helen Keller drive? One hand on the wheel, one hand on the road.
hahahahahaha… Good one.
I get off work at midnight and am an hour drive. The cops really have their eyes peeled. And for some reason it seems like Ohio has 5 times as many cops then any other state.
Always running into those DUI/no seat belt/no helmet/no driver’s license/no voter’s registration card or whatever else they don’t see on you check points.
in the 80’s my husband and I were driving down an obscure road outside of Bowling Green Ohio. We were driving a Fiero. We were hmmm kind of happy that night and he says. “look I have cat’s eyes.” And was driving along without the lights on. Well nature called and and he stopped so I could relieve myself on the side of the road. All of a sudden there were multiple lights shining on me as I was doing my thing. The cops were surrounding us. I guess we drove into a sting operation for household burglaries. Driving a Fiero there is no room to even put groceries in the car.
The cops started questioning us and realized we couldn’t possibly be robbing houses. One of the cops realized he went to school with my husband and told him to be a good boy and get on home.
Got “pulled over” for nailin’ my then girlfriend on a green @ the Scranton Country Club golf course. The cop was VERY understanding!
I wonder about the carcinogens that are still embedded in my knees. No wonder, ever since then, it has been uncomfortable when I go for a run.
It was going around work once that I was a satanist after my daughter put a heartagram sticker for the rock HIM on the back windshield of my car.
i guess “i will see you tomorrow” is wvsr speak for see you in a week???????
GO SOX!!! That’s as political as I wanna get right now.
when i was in college, my roommate accused me of stealing her diamond ring…the college police came and interrogated me and i let them search my room (cause i didn’t have anything to hide…except my dildo..which they found in no time) and of course they didn’t find the ring cause i didn’t have it…and the cop apologized to me for “any embarrassment he might have caused” and said he was surprised he couldn’t find anything and left. my roommate was still convinced i stole it.
Ok…never mind. GO PHILLIES!!!
Good Morning Surf Reporters………..
Back from vacation, trying to get acclaimated to the work routine again.
No deals on my desk after being gone 10 days. I could have, should have stayed in Florida…..
Is that a ham hock on the bunker cam??
First?
http://graphjam.com/2008/10/17/song-chart-memes-why-people-write-first/
Jeff musta got arrested at the library book sale or sumpthin??
Carla, that’s Andy’s dinner.