I took my car in for an oil change today, and asked them to also fix a brake light that’s shit the bed on me. Someone at work told me about the light a week or so ago, and I haven’t had a chance to deal with it until today.
And I was convinced the predatory middle o’ the night cops in this town would pull me over and put me through another drunk test. Every night, almost without exception, they have someone pulled over when I’m coming home from work around 2:30 am. And a couple of times that someone was me.
The first one had to do with a Big Mac purchased only moments before, at the 24 hour McDonald’s. I specifically told them “no pickles,” ’cause they’re nasty-ass. But when I took my first bite of the burger, my teefas passed through something that was suspiciously pickle-like. Then I tasted it.
Dammit! I was instantly angry, and began yanking the devil’s fixin’ off my hamburger, while navigating the abandoned streets. And the next thing I know, there’s a whole mess of lights in my rearview mirror, a-flashing and a-twirling and whatnot.
WTF? For a couple of seconds I thought it might have been a runaway corndog stand from the county fair. Not really the most logical of thoughts, but there you go…
The cop was all business, and refused to crack a smile. I told him I was trying to get the pickles off my Big Mac, but he saw no humor in it. Then he started shining a light in my face, and wanted to know why my eyes were bloodshot. “They are?” I responded.
And the next thing I know… he’s got me doing the Stupid Human Tricks. Touching my nose, and following his flashlight with my eyes, etc. I told him I hadn’t been drinking, I’d just left work, but I guess people routinely lie to the police? Apparently it’s true.
He finally let me go without issuing a ticket, but he was an earnest man — exceedingly earnest.
The second time cost me about two hundred dollars, and had nothing to do with food. At the bottom of the interstate exit ramp is a set of flashing red lights. I understand they mean the same thing as a stop sign, but the streets are almost completely deserted at 2:30 in the morning, and I had gotten into the habit of doing the ol’ rolling stop, then continuing on my way.
The cop who pulled me that night was also not very funny. Not really the kind of guy you’d want to have a beer with… He did that really annoying thing where they ask, “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over this evening?” I always have to suppress an urge to say, “Because you’re a prick?”
But, of course, I know better. I never mouth-off to a cop, ’cause that’s a battle you’re not going to win. And this one told me I’d gone through the flashing lights at 20 mph, which was complete horseshit. I would put it closer to 5 mph.
He wrote me a ticket and gave me a lecture about keeping my vehicle under control, and it cost some number between a hundred and two hundred. I can’t remember the exact amount, but it was a lot. And my vehicle had been under control at all times.
So, when I found out one of my brake lights had burned out, I feared the worst. I figured they’d be lying in wait, and would seize the opportunity to yank my ass again. But I somehow got away with it. The brake lights are operational once again. Pass the beer nuts.
Have you been pulled over by The Man recently? Tell us about it, won’t you? And what was your all-time most memorable encounter with a traffic cop? I know I’ve told these stories before, but I don’t do anything in the real world anymore, and am forced to recycle.
I’ve had plenty of memorable experiences on this subject, but my favorite happened in South Carolina. I was living in Atlanta at the time, and was returning from visiting my parents in Dunbar (I think). I’d gotten off the interstate to buy gas, or a cannonball of fat from McDonald’s or something.
I was pulled over by an older black man, probably in his late fifties or early sixties. He eyed my Georgia driver’s license, and finally said, “I know different states have different laws, and everything. But I was wondering… In Georgia if there’s a sign that says ‘No U-Turn,’ does that mean to just go ahead and make a U-Turn?”
And you’ve got to give credit where credit is due… That’s some funny shit. A good line. And he let me go, too, even though he’d watched me whip my car around in a big ol’ U-Turn, around a No U-Turn sign. He acted like he was having pity on a poor retarded boy, but that’s OK. I can live with that.
If you have anything to report on this subject, please use the comments link below. I might be back tomorrow, and I might not. Just a word of warning… Don’t be too shocked if I don’t update again until Sunday.
Either way, I’ll see you guys next time.
Have a great day!
Day two…uno!
You dirty bastard.
I got nailed here in fl this time last year. I was in a nasty construction zone that has become the tru tv of accidents at 275 & 75. I got in an accident in a rental car trying to get out of the otta control guy who was going to hit me. He stuck around and said so but I got the ticket for being impatient…I was stopped!!
A dose of dos.
Second? And I read the update.
Knock on wood…nothing recent to report here!!!
Ha Ha fourth!!! And I really read the update!!
Number 5 ??
I’ll take third anyday. Picking up the scraps.
Unfortuneately I’ve had too many run ins with the law in the past 5 yrs, all of them somehow alcohol related.
Probably the most memerable one that I’m will to talk about at 2:12 in the afternoon is I was leaving a show at the historic Southgate House in Newport, KY and while walking to the car pissed on another historic building that may or may not have been the courthouse.
Well officer hoppius was right there when we pulled away. Gave me the ol’ lecture about respecting property and what not and then let us go.
Semi-funny story. About 7 months later I left the bar with my girl, my friend steve, and two opened PBR’s in my pocket. The cops saw me take a swig and it was the same guy, officer hoppius. He made me pour them out and was going to let me go but then when he ran my ID there was a warrant out for me (d’oh!) for a previous indiscretion. That one got me a night in the pokey and my girl had to meet my parents over the phone to get the money to bail my sorry ass out. That was a fun weekend.
For the record, I’m 3 days sober! Ok, I just haven’t had a drink in 3 days.
Oh yeah, when I was living in Onancock I drove up to the Dogfish brewery and got hammered, heckled a band, and drove my car into a field. If the field hadn’t been there I would be saying I drove my car into the Atlantic Ocean.
Cop to The Qweezy Mark in New York, about 35 miles south of the Canadian border, after TQM had just been pulled over doing 110 driving a rental van full of drunks (us) to the Canadian Grand Prix in Montreal, and inquiring about the ability of the other 8 people in the van to drive it: “Son, looks like your the best we got.”
That was one beautiful day. Sackett’s Harbor! Sackett’s Harbor!
that is hilarious.
What does Scrach-it harder have to do with this story? I used to live there. Unfortunately.
Juancho,
We were pulled over a little north of Watertown, but prior to that one of our motley crew just insisted, for some unknown reason, on taking a break off the Sackett’s Harbor exit of Rte. 81. He just kept screaming “Sackett’s Harbor! Sackett’s Harbor!” I finally complied by backing up the onramp, which was not a great idea given the amount of booze and contraband in the rented minivan.
Top Ten! Again!
18 and a half years old; Summer in Cincinnati. Spent the evening at a bar (Silverton Grille; AFTER getting half-hammered AT WORK) then couldn’t start car. Went back in to bar to get a friend’s help plus another beer (since he was taking his time, trying to pick up on some chick). Take my beer with me (for some reason) and watch him & another buddy jump-start my car. Drive home. Get pulled over 2 miles from my parent’s house. The (now empty) beer bottle I brought with me from the bar is ON THE FRONT SEAT OF THE CAR. I’m so hammered I don’t even remember panicking when I got pulled over. I know I didn’t hide the beer bottle and I honestly don’t know if the cop saw it or not. Cop has me touch my nose with my eyes closed (I found it somehow!), runs my license, LET’S ME GO.
At home I run in to my Mom (up late wondering where I was) and I tell her I had car trouble (which was the truth, if only in part). Mom wants to use car next day so asks my Dad to go see if it needs to be jumped the next morning. Dad finds empty beer bottle on seat and is livid: DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU’D BEEN PULLED OVER LAST NIGHT????!!!!
Well – I know what SHOULD have happened….
There’s a Catholic School in the middle of town here. The Church is on the main highway, the school is two blocks away, but because the kids are in the church for 2 hours in the middle of the day the whole highway is turned into a school zone during the school year and the speed limit drops from 45 to 25.
The “Man” pulls me over the VERY first day of school with my kids in the car on the way to their school (not the Catholic School) and yes we were running late. He actually asked me why I was going so fast in a school zone, and I told him honestly that today was the first day in 3 months that is has been a school zone and that since I’m driving by a Church and the school is two blocks away it just never dawned on me that I was in a school zone, and I didn’t want my kids late for the first day of school. He let me off, but he’s a prick and I’m pretty sure his kids were in the car with him and he didn’t have time to write me a ticket anyway, or his kids would’ve been late.
Fuck the coppers. That’s all i have to say about that…..
A little different story but… late October, Sunday, Beloved and I are about to sit down to what was probably the last Yankees game. Just poured some wine and about to rank up the volume when we hear a knock – no – a rapping – on the door. Get up and see some dude in a suit standing there. First thought: Jehovah’s, second thought: Some politician. Wrong on both accounts – it was a state detective from the State police.
Turns out some man was in the woods, on state land, foraging for mushrooms when some fucklebug “mistakes” him for a pheasant and blasts the guy sending a ton of birdshot through the left side of his face, neck chest and arm. Mushroom man runs out into the road, flags down a motorist who takes him to the hospital. Truthfully, we never heard a thing.Our house butts up to sttae land and during hunting season we hear shots all day long. Never imagined some poor bastard was becoming human Swiss cheese.
We’re chatting with the detective and it suddenly hit me – I used to drink with this man about 18 – 20 years ago. Small world. Nice guy. Never caught the shooter.
Was it Cheney?
That seems a likely guess. The MO fits. At the minimum, it was some Dick.
jtb
I haven’t been stopped in years. However, my wife was recently stopped by the MPs on post. They ran her plate and said she didn’t have insurance. She showed them the old expired insurance card, the current insurance card, and the future insurance card we just got in the mail. They refused to believe that those cards were proof of insurance, I guess they thought she had a counterfeit GEICO machine. They put her in the back of the squad car and were about to drive her to the station, and have her car towed to impound. She called the GEICO office and the DMV, it was the DMVs fault. They hadn’t input our insurances into their system. The cops had my wife crying in the back of a squad car for 45 minutes while the DMV got its shit together.
I;m lucky I wasn’t there, I would have been billy-clubbed, tasered, pepper sprayed and shot over that dumb shit. I was fuming and yelling when she got home and told me about it. If I had one less beer in would have kicked the Provost Marshals’ door down and started beating his wife over that shit.
Ice, I almost caught an article 15 cuz I refused to pull someone over for that stupid insurance shit! I felt like I had more important things to do (I didn’t have shit to do!) than worry about that!! Some quick talking and the LT being my drinking buddy saved my ass on that one!
Sounds like a future TSA agent.
Good Afternoon Surf Reporters….
Haven’t been pulled over recently *knocking wood three times* but the most memorable time was…..queue dream sequence music…..
My wife and I were still dating and both living at home. I drove out to her house almost every night which was approximately 20 miles one way.
So I’m returning home from her house late night ( 2 am?) and have at least 8 beers in my belly (19 years old at the time). Zipping down a winding 2 lane in a 5 speed Ford Fiesta, doing a good 75 in a 45.
I saw the cop (didn’t know it was at the time) pull out behind me and he followed me for almost 5 miles before finally hitting the lights.
I pull over quickly and cautiously (I believe I even used my signal in doing so). Had my license, registration and insurance ready to go before he even got to the car.
“What’s the big hurry, son?”
“I’m late getting home. This is my mom’s car and she’s going to be pissed I’m late.”
“Son, do you know how fast you were going?”
“No sir. I was too busy watching the road to look at the speedometer.” ( the truth!)
“Well, I had about 75 back there. You know, if you’d have wrecked this little car, I’d be picking pieces of you up all over the place for the last 5 miles.”
“Yes sir, I understand.”
And that was that. No ticket. No questions of have I been drinking. Nothing. He ran my license and plates and let me go.
Mom WAS pissed off when I got home. That pullover cost me another 20 minutes in getting back.
I have a problem with authority figures
So up yours “The Man”
It’s been a while since I’ve had the ol’ anal-tightening- bubble-lights-in-the-rear view mirror (knock on wood). But the last time was with my late husband on our bike.
We were riding through Kennedy Township to the bar (where else?). Now the main drag through Kennedy is posted at 25mph. And that’s exactly what they mean. 25 M.P.H. The rest of the town could be burning, looted, women and children being raped and pillaged and every officer on duty is located somewhere along that 1/4 mile strip to monitor speeders.
So one Friday night, we blow through there and I said to my husband…”watch your sp….” “Fuck…..nevermind”
So the cop pulls us over. 38 in a 25. My husband’s talking out the side of his mouth while the ossifer is checking his info. “He’s gonna impound the bike…shit. I fucking know it.” Why you ask? Well, lets just say my husband was handy with a pair of vice grips and a locked motorcycle. Although the bike was registered and “legal”, it was missing a few legal identification tags. So the cop walks around the bike 2 or 3 times. Bends down looking underneath the frame. The onceover. Gives my husband back his license and registration and says, “Hey..just take it slow next time. OK?”
After the cop pulled off my husband says “thats the best thing about cops that don’t ride…they don’t know what the fuck they’re looking for on a bike. If he did, we’d be standing here with our thumbs in the wind”.
riding a stolen bike is bad karma
Back when I worked to the wee early mornings is about the only time I ever made sure I played by all the road rules. I was a sitting duck, and it certainly didn’t help that I managed to dodge the bullet so to speak during my day shift commute from the same place on a regular basis. (This would be back when cops still had gigantic gum dispenser lights on the roof, and you could really hoof it in the open areas if you kept your eyes open).
That “keep your car under control” line really irks me. If I didn’t have it under control I would be in somebodys front yard or swapping paint with some other car…
The most memorable cop event was in Podunk, Louisiana (population 300, the type of town with more stray cows than people); where the mayor was my high school science teacher and his family goes fishing in my families ponds. I was back in town with my wife, again it was her who was driving, when we were pulled over. It seems as though this guy was an import cop from a few towns over and didn’t know any better not to give any vehicle with a “Cooper” front plate any shit. My wife started crying as soon as she saw the lights, it was the first time she was ever pulled over. He stood there at the window like a bad ass wanting her to plead and grovel. Then we both started yelling at him to just write the damn ticket. He gave us a speeding ticket and a belligerence citation.
After he drove off I told my wife to drive to town hall. The cop also just so happened to be going to town hall. So we pull into the parking lot at the same time. Oh, our town hall is a lobby, a receptionist office, a public bathroom, and office for the mayor (his name is Terry), and the Chief of Polices office. (the Chief of Police then would also spotlight rabbits in his squad car in my families cow pastures). The entire building is about 900 sq ft.
So us and the cop walked into to town hall, here is what went down:
Me: Hey Terry, this piece of shit wrote me a ticket while I was under the speed limit.
Terry: Leave it on my desk.
Chief of Police: Is that (my name)?
Me: Yeah.
Chief of Police: Be nice to my new cop, shit head.
Me: Be nice to my rabbits.
Chief of Police: Leave the ticket on Terry’s desk.
All while the new cop was standing in full view of everyone there. Awesome.
Are you saying there is some type of “good-ole boy” network there in this podunk town?
Shocking!
SHENANIGANS
SHENANIGANS!
I’m a seatbeat scofflaw. And by damn it pisses me off when the Law pulls me over about it, too. The points and fine aren’t too special, either.
Shouldn’t I be able to fly through the windshield in a major accident if I choose? It ain’t like I’m on Medicaid or anything–I suspect I’d probably be willing to pay for the damages.
Just pisses me off to the extreme for some reason. If you see me with a seat belt across my shoulder, most likely I’m holding in my left hand. Ha! Fuckers.
With all the people who don’t have a problem with drinking and driving you may want to rethink that lack of seatbelt use…
fuck seat belt laws… It’s my car and my life, I can decide when to put it on and when not to. When they first started passing these laws it was “you will only get a ticket if you get pulled over for something else”, now they use it as an excuse for brown shirt checkpoints.
I hear that if you’re not wearing your seat-belt and you are in an accident and your or a passenger crash through the windshield you can be charged with
traveling with an unsecured load…
or with allowing a passenger to ride outside of the vehicle while under way…
or with littering…
or with defacing public property if you hit a road sign or bridge
or with traveling with a broken windshield
or with any other number of pinko commie leftist liberal death panels health care environmental bull shit too much government bull shit laws 🙂
Unsecured load. LOL!
Not to be a nerd or anything, but without the seatbelt you are more likely to get thrown and/or get killed. Also with not being restrained into the seat it’s easier to come off of the pedals and otherwise lose control of the car possibly making things worse.
I’d likely be unconscious by the time any pedal pushing needed to be dealt with, so WTF?
Would you be unconscious if you didn’t hit the windshield or had your chest collapsed by hitting the steering wheel? Or if you were hit from the left side and not wearing one, would you still be behind the wheel? I guess air bags would help.
Just asking. Too nice a day for fightin’
God DAMN I love Friday’s.
I don’t. Don’t really care for Chili’s, Applebee’s, Ruby Tuesday, any of that type place really.
.
I see what you did there. Well played sir, well played.
My Ex-husband was a cop.
EX. nuff said
I got my license when I was 15 and went 30 years without so much as being pulled over. Then soon-to-be-hubby’s evil ex managed to arrange an encounter. Then last year I didn’t see a SCHOOL ZONE sign (you’d have to use binoculars to see the school from there, for crying out loud) and got a ticket for doing 26 in a 15. I am such a menace to society. And then I was ONE DAY LATE getting my tag renewed, and got pulled over for that. Cop was nice and let me off with a warning. But something is up around here. They’re everywhere!
Ooooooooh, I got a good one.
I was on a trip to visit a friend in Virginia, just outside of DC. It was actually his 40th birthday, and a surprise one……
Anywho, I was on the beltway. Nothin’ but idiots slamming on brakes for no reason, then back to 75 Mph, then random slamming of brakes again, and so it went………
Saw my exit, got into the right exit lane. And then the car in front of me suddenly changes lanes……….
And theres a car stopped right in front of me. Shit! A concrete barrier on my right, car in the lane to my left, no where to go……..
I STOOD on the brakes……… literally, my ass was off the seat, ran outta real estate tho, and plowed into the minivan at about 15 mph. Totaled my truck, though it was still driveable to get home.
Anyhow, the Virginia state trooper shows up, then tells all of the drivers of the five vehicles involved to get off the highway, and turn into a parking lot. Took my info, then went to his cruiser for his paperwork.
I went to the cruiser, to try to explain all the details I saw of the accident, (several cars involved indirectly) and he got huffy and told me to go back to my vehicle.
After some time, he came to the driver’s side of the car, and started to explain, in an “in yer face” style, that in VIRGINIA, if you hit the car ahead of you you will be cited for “failure to stop”, and that he wasn’t sure how they do it “Up in PENNSYLVANIA”, but that was the law in VIRGINIA……… He then proceeded to ask me, “That is also the way it’s done in PENNSYLVANIA, is it not, SIR?”
And I think this was the single solitary time in my entire life, that I gave the perfect one-liner, at the proper moment, rather than thinking of it later.
I simply looked him in the eye (sunglasses), and replied…..
“I reckon.”
Instant frown and silence from him, not to mention instant veins bulging in his forehead, then he about faced and strode back to the cruiser purposefully.
Heh heh. Fukkit. I was getting a ticket anyhow..
Oh yeah…even if a car slams into you from behind and knocks you into the car ahead of you…your fault! Learned it from my wife’s big wreck.
Also, be careful as to who your insurance company is. The one’s witht lizards, or a fat chick in a white smock are guppies in a pool of sharks.
My brother got hit from behind and woth his race car driver’s refexes and a whole lotta luck, broke up the middle of a multi car chain reaction. When he was talking to his insurance agent, the agent told him, “Well, I got good news and bad news. It totally wan’t your fault, but the guy who hit you was insured by Allstate. This is going to take some time to collect on.”
“slams into you from behind”? what kind of website you running here Jeff?
Yeah Jeff, “slams you from behind?” I just googled homo-erotic pornography, and got this website, LOL!
She doesn’t strike me as being fat. Just kinda curvy. Which doesn’t help much because she’s working for a fucking insurance company, the bloodsuckers of the Earth.
jtb
I unintentionally ran (and I mean RAN) a stop sign in a small, unfamilliar town in central Michigan back in October, right in front of a local cop. I deserved a ticket, no doubt about it; I saw no reason to offer excuse or engage in any pleading or begging, and was ready to take my medicine. To my surprise, I recieved a Courtesy Safety Notice (warning) from the most pleasant, avuncular, laid-back cop I have ever met. He was like an upper-midwestern Andy Griffith or something. He even thanked me for pulling over promptly! A nice guy, unlike the cop in a Detroit suburb who gave me a ton of shit for turning around in an elementary school parking lot…
Did he offer a reason why elementary school parking lots are not to be entered with a car in detroit?
In Detroit, elementary school parking lots are safer places to turn around than high school lots. Lower caliber weapons involved.
jtb
No expalnation was given; the cop was borderline deranged, acting like I’d attempted some horrible action as though school parking lots were absolutely sacrosanct. Did I mention this happend on a Sunday? In the middle of summer? It’s still bewildering to me.
Nothing recently – knock on wood – but it’s been long enough that I figure I’m about due. The last (n) times it’s always been for speeding. Although I had a “scare” (what a wuss) the other day when I was inadvertently driving solo on an HOV road and went right past a cop on the shoulder. For whatever reason, he stayed put and didn’t come after me.
Two thoughts on the subject: 1) For aficionados of tasty adult beverages, remember: only break one law at a time. Don’t give them the excuse to bust you. 2) You might be a geezer if you don’t know how fast your car can go. (That would be me.)
.
Haven’t had many tickets since the first one, but that one was had me convinced I was going to jail.
College, heading to the next town at night, 3 guys in the car. 1964 1/2 Mustang. Stone sober. Pulled out to pass a car full of local guys on the straight stretch out of town and they floored it. I recall someone saying “You’re going to let a Maverick beat you?” and it was on.
Once they were a good 1/2 mile behind, I backed off the gas and sailed past the cop at the tractor dealer – and made an immediate left down a winding road. “Those guys in the Maverick are on our tail” – we could see the headlines following us – and again, it was on.
About 5 miles down this winding road, at speeds I really don’t want to think about, the cop got close enough so I could see his red lights, and “the floor of my ass dropped out”.
“Are you boys in a hurry?”
we sweated and waited for about 15 minutes trying to figure out how we were going to get out of jail when he came back and handed me a ticket for unsafe speed for road conditions, mentioning that at no point was he able to track me on radar. Cost me $80 which Dad paid citing his own speeding as being “a poor influence while you were growing up”
headlights – my edit button appears to be missing…..
“For a couple of seconds I thought it might have been a runaway corndog stand from the county fair.”
Best line of 2010 sneaking in under the wire!
No doubt!
The last time I was requested to stop by The Man was on New Year’s Eve a couple-tree years back. After digging out the registration and insurance card and handing them over to him, he shined the flashlight in my eyes. Then came the inevitable question: “When did you have your last drink, Jeff?”
I smirked, and justifiably so, then answered, “January 22, 1997!”
The officer frowned and seemed genuinely disappointed, handed me back my papers, then signalled me to GTFO of his general vicinity — which I did, post haste.
My most memorable stop was when I was 17. We were on our way to a neighboring town’s (Missouri Ozarks) Senior Party. We had a “case” of 48 pony Millers (7 oz) in a VW bug. Reason for being pulled over: headlights weren’t on. For a small (1850 pop) town, they had some BRIGHT street lights; no one in the car even noticed that our lights weren’t on. Well, local deputy pulls us over. No open containers, but not a single occupant was of legal age. He asks if anyone wants to claim the beer (thus letting everyone else off the hook). I said i would, since in fact, I did buy it. Then the deputy had us get out of the car, and QUICKLY open and pour out every single one of those 48 beers. The SCAR on my hand from twisting all of those tops didn’t fade until my late 20’s. I was bleeding quite nicely before we were done. Finally, Mr. Deputy (who happened to be engaged to a cousin of mine, though I didn’t know it at the time), told us to turn on our lights and be on our way…. and if we got drunk at the Senior Party (it had not been mentioned), to sleep if off there rather than try to drive home.
Another memorable stop did not involve a motor vehichle. Same town, but I lived there at the time and was about 13 years old. A buddy and I had walked to just beyond the city limits to camp/fish along the Big Piney River. We had a blast, and right at daybreak used our BB guns and a LOT of thrown rocks to kill a genuinely huge snapping turtle that was stupid enough to get up on a shallow rock shelf without access to deep water. I don’t really care what you think of that action: we were 13-year old boys on an unsupervised overnight adventure, and we both like turtle, having eaten it several times before. Surf Reporters, the Ozarks is as hillbilly as West-By-God. Anyway, we picked up our (heavy) trophy, blood from its bludgeoned head dripping the entire time, and started walking home. Almost as soon as we hit the city limits (right at the river’s bridge), a local cop pulled over. Seems we were in violation of the town’s curfew. Never mind that we hadn’t been out and about in town that night — our problem was that we were walking home TOO EARLY, because the curfew did not officially end until 6 AM. The cop gave us a “stern” warning about the dangers of being out alone after curfew, then offered us a ride home. What about the turtle? No problem: put it on the floor mat and I’ll rinse the mat after I take the squad car back. Well, I realized later that the cop was actually just trying to be nice — give us a ride home while warning about the curfew so we wouldn’t get in REAL trouble later in the summer. But that’s not how we saw it at the time. It pissed us off to no end. So by the time we got out of the car at my buddy’s house, he had, with my full support, rubbed that turtle’s bloody head ALL OVER the backseat upholstery. I still feel sorry for that cop, but we never heard another word about it.
One final note: I have a rule, which I actually stole from a Mafia book. It’s quite simple, but profound. These wise guys were transporting a body. The Don in the back seat told the driver to slow down. As he put it, “If you’re breaking the felonies, obey the misdemeanors.” To this day, if i’m having a beer (or have had any beers) when coming back from the fishing hole, I never drive more than four miles over the speed limit. Result: not a single moving violation at age 47.
I haven’t been pulled over recently by the “man”, but I attribute that to my age and my tendency to not drive after dark anymore. My most memorable pull over was when I was 17. Oceana, WV. My Mom’s orange Vega. We had some older friends, a married couple, who liked to get us drunk for fun. They did their job well this night. Cold Duck. Eww, still makes me sick to think about it. While driving through town on the way home,my friend says pull over, with the puke voice. So, I do. Cops pull up immediately behind us. She pukes on the cops shoes. He asks her name. I hear my name coming out of her mouth. So he asks my name, and I give him her name. He asks me where we are going. I say, “home”. He lets us go. Of course, this was in the 70’s when drunk driving underage was accepted, thank goodness. He never even asked for my drivers license or registration or insurance or anything. I can only guess he was afraid of getting puked on again. I miss the 70’s.
“The devil’s fixin’ – I am SO using that. I fucking hate pickles in my food. Come to think about it, I haven’t seen a single pickle in Italy. Yay.
Anyway, from the ages of 18-21 I got pulled over for speeding EVERY SINGLE YEAR on my birthday (I haven’t driven on my birthday in years because of it). The last time was in Campbell California, where the cops are notorious dicks. Pulls me over on the main drag at almost rush hour – as I was getting the ticket several of my friends saw me and honked as they were going by. I didn’t notice because I was pissed.
Cop says “You get a gold star. You were the fastest one today”
Me: silent.
Goes back to his car to run my shit and write the ticket. Comes back, hands me the ticket and says “Happy Birthday”.
Me: “You’re a dick”
He just smiled and walked away.
I hate cops.
Up until my late 20s, I thought speeding tickets were just a built in cost of driving an automobile. You know, like gas, oil, tires, insurance. Of course, my Dad would look at my brother and myself like we were a couple of dipshits, slowly shake his head while mumbling, “When are you idiots gonna learn…”
I finally did learn. I didn’t slow down a whole lot, but I did learn that I stood a WHOLE heck of a lot better chance of getting out of a ticket if the first words out of my mouth to the police officer were not, “What do you want, Pig!” Yeah, that was me from teens through 20s. Fun times, but kinda pathetic.
Last ticket was 16 years ago. Last stop was ten years ago in Montana. The speed limit on the Interstate was posted as “Safe and Prudent Speed.” Imagine my surprise when the Montana State Trooper pulled me over and told me that 106 MPH in my Toyota rental car was NOT a “Safe and Prudent Speed.” He just gave me a warning, but also informed me that his buddy was about 40 miles ahead, just before the first exit to Butte Montana.
In my many road trips across the country, I have found that the further East you travel, you get proportionately closer to Nazi Germany.
—Oh, but my absolute BEST traffice stop of all time resulted in an “Inciting to Riot” citation from the Everett. WA police vice squad. I’ll tell you more, if anyone wants to hear it. It is a story on par with perty much anything a routine traffic stop with Sunshine and Mumbles might be.
Let’s hear it!
A bit long, but worth the read, WB!
Okay, here it goes. In 1983-ish, my brother and I drove from Seattle to Indiana to buy a race car (a sprint car, for those in the know).
To cover expenses, we bought a pickup truck to haul the car, and a 1972 Corvette to resell when we got to Seattle to “make money off the deal.”
Well, we soon found out that the Corvette was a “chick magnet” and we kept it. Cruise night on Colby Avenue in Everett, Washington on Saturday nights was like fishni’ for Bass with dynamite…if you drove a ‘Vette.
Of course, the cops were always out cruising too, making sure nobody had too much fun. Driving through parking lots of closed establishments was a huge taboo.
So, we were going through the Sizzler Steakhouse parking lot, and halfway through, a female police officer pulls in, gets on the bullhorn, and announcece, “This is the Everett Police Department, This is an unlawful assembly, CLEAR THE PARKING LOT NOW!!!!”
26 years old and actually sober, I hang out the window and yell, “Fuck you, PIG!”
Instantly, these two guys jump out of a beat up Chev Citation with a video camera, and say, “Everett vice squad, you’re under arrest!”
Of course, being in the Sizzler Steakhouse parking lot, my brother just has to ask, What, are you guys on a “Stakeout.” That got him a quick response from the arresting officer of, “You just flunked the attitude test. Give me your license, and follow us down to teh station.”
My brother, being a somewhat more subdued smatass than me, countered with, “But officer, if you have my license with you, I can’t legally operate a motor vehicle.”
Yadada…we’re in the Corvette following the cops down to the station. A carload of obviously underage teen girls pulls up alongside us and asked my brother where we were going. Joe (my brother) said, “We’re going to jail, wanna come?”
The girl in the passenger seat said, “Sure” And off we proceeded following the Everett Vice Squad down to the station. We got there, and my brother was talking to 5 realy hot teen girls, while the vice officers stood smoldering, telling us to “follow us.”
The two cops were typical “Mutt and Jeff.” One chubby and short haired, one slim, with long blonde hair…but going noticabely bald in front.
I was their main “concern,” but blondie went out front to confront mt brother. Joe had short hair at the time, and blondie asked him, “How come you have such short hair? Are you in the Army? Joe said, “No, I just like to look like a human being. Why do you have long hair?
Blondie countered with, “because I’m on Vice.” Joe countered with, “Oh, so you can look like a teenager? Well that ain’t workin'”
So, Blondie comes back in to deal with me. Of course, he accuses me of being drunk, or being high. I said, “test me. I’m just an asshole.”
The questioning goes on and on. At One point I say to the prematurely balding long haired blode guy, :Wow, your job must be really stressful!” To which he said, :Why do you say that?” Perfect setup for my delivery: “Because, look! All your hair is falling out!”
So, in the final outcome, “Inciting to Riot” was a bigger offense than disorderly conduct, so he wrote me a citation for that. I never got a summons for a court appearance, so I asked my Cop friend about it. He read it for what it was, and advised me to call the of County Courthouse. The court clerk said that they had “no record of that citaion being filed, but if it were still outstanding, she would personally make sure I was issued a court summons.” I told her to “fuck off,” and that’s the last I ever heard of it.
Hopefully the statute of limitations on “Inciting to Riot: runs out after 30 years…otherwise I’m in Big Trouble!
Hey Clintcurtis: Here ya go!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6o5NweFWjAw
Thanks for the story clintcurtis. Sounds like those two would make a good sitcom.
A friend of mine sent me this today.
Top This Reply To A Speeding Ticket
Two California Highway Patrol Officers were conducting speeding enforcement on I-5, just north of Oceanside, San Diego, California.
One of the officers was using a hand held radar device to check speeding vehicles approaching the crest of a hill. The officers were suddenly surprised when the radar gun began reading 300 miles per hour and climbing to 500 miles per hour.
The officer attempted to reset the radar gun, but it would not reset and then the Radar Gun suddenly turned off and could not be restarted.
Just then a deafening roar over the treetops revealed that the radar had in fact locked on to a USMC F/A-18 Hornet which was engaged in a low flying exercise near there, it’s home base location.
Back at the California Highway Patrol Headquarters the Patrol Captain fired off a complaint to the US Marine Corps Base Commander for shutting down and damaging his equipment.
The reply came back in true USMC style:
“Thank you for your letter. You may be interested to know that on that day the tactical computer in the Hornet detected the presence of, and subsequently locked on to, your ‘hostile’ radar equipment and automatically sent an Electronic Counter Measure (ECM) jamming signal back to it, which is why your equipment has shut down permanently.
Furthermore, an Air-to-Ground missile aboard the fully armed aircraft had also automatically locked on to your equipment location. Fortunately, the Marine Pilot flying the Hornet recognized the situation for what it was, quickly responded to the missile system alert status and was able to override the automated defense system within the 5 seconds that it takes the missile to automatically launch to destroy the hostile radar position.
The pilot of the Hornet on that day also suggests that your people cover their mouths when cussing at them, since the video systems on these jets are very high tech and the pilot can easily get distracted by the cussing and such a distraction might result in a delay of more than 5 seconds in the reaction of switching off the automatic missile launch.
It might also be of interest to Sergeant Johnson, the officer holding the radar gun (we can read his name-tag on the video), that he should get his dentist to check his left rear molar. It appears that the filling is loose as we can see a gap between the filling and the tooth. Also, the snap is broken on his holster and his pistol might fall out if he runs. Have a nice day you-all!!”
That’s funny…highly unlikely but funny none the less!
Probably made up…I agree, but kinda funny story. More like a “Humor in Uniform”, Readers Digest thing now that I think of it. And now I feel dirty for having said the RD word. Fuck I hate that thing!
I like when you say sexy-time things like “I feel dirty”
I have not been pulled over in 15 years and even that was just a warning. But my wife has been pulled over 3 times in the last couple of years; and each time she has received a warning. The last one was a clear running of a red light (I was in the car). The cop saw the entire action while sitting in the opposite lane. Still no ticket.
I hope my Man boobs work as well as her boobs when I get pulled over.
A guy I went to school with in California got pulled over for the same U-Turn violation, right at the sign.
At night court he told the judge that he was just going to go straight down the road but saw the sign as “No, You Turn” so he felt he had to by law and all.
He got a pass for an original answer that made the judge laugh. Being a smartass rarely pays but this is one time it did.
I always liked california, very onerous on the cops. More than two mistakes on a ticket and it was thrown out. I got a ticket in Washington near Tacoma that had at least 15 mistakes on the ticket including plates, VIN, my licence number etc. from a stater who “Paced” my speed from almost a mile behind me, he was accelerating the entire time. I figured on a walk because there wasn’t even enough information on the summons to prove my identity or my car. Nope, $385 to the general fund and I was told I could try for $1,500 if I wanted to be a dick and argue about anything.
Don’t have out of state plates in Washington!
What’s the female equivalent to being a dick? anyone?
The “c” word.
Which, as a woman, I should be highly offended by it, but I find myself using it more and more in my daily vocabulary. I’m sorry, I just happen to be surounded by hoards of them.
cock? that doesn’t make any sense because that just another word for the guy part… the Tab A …I’m looking for the equivalent to the lady bit’s the Slot B … the ….oh…ok, thanks.
🙂
I’ve kinda found the C word to be the deal-breaker when dealing with coworkers. They don’t seem to want to talk to me after that….the motherfuckers with their shitty fucking attitudes the assholes… I mean, I’m really a nice guy
Profanity is the crutch of inarticulate motherfuckers.
I call people cunts all the time. Not really directed at them though, just the video game character of them. It’s always “YOU FUCKING CUNT. HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KILL ME. THAT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT.”
Can’t Understand Normal Thinking
cuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcunt
See you next tuesday.
My autotext on my phone goes to cunt when I type cut. That might cost me someday.
It very well might.
See you in Toledo!
.
My second ticket in life was a Reckless Driving ticket in Washington. Coincidentally, it was also my second Reckless Driving ticket. The first one coming a scant three days after I got my license.
Had I got the ticket two weeks later, the charge would have been “Felony Flight..” Back in the good ol’ days, running from the cops to avoid a ticket was just considered “good fun.”
So…I’m in court, and I thought I put up a pretty damn good bullshit defense. To my 20 year old moronic suprise, the Judge (a coffee klatch buddy of my Dad’s at the local Dairy Queen every morning) found me guilty, and fined me $250.
$250 to an Airman First Class in the Air Force is a pretty big chunck of change.
Also, this being just after Claudine Longette got let off for killing Spider Sabitch the previous day, I looked up at the Judge and mumbled, :Jeez, maybe next time I’ll just commit murder, I might get off a little easier. And I started walking angrily out of the court room…
Rest of conversation…
Judge: (in a booming voice): Young Man!
Me: Yeahhhh? (in a snotty punk voice)
Judge: Do you know what contempt of court is?
Me: Yeahh (with one less “h”‘)
Judge: It means that I can send you to County Lockup for an indefinite period of time if you don’t show the proper respect,
Me: Uhhhh, I apologize sir, and will pay my fine on the way out of the courtroom.
Good times, glad it all happened. My two daughters revel in the stories of my life…despite the fact that my awesome wife has expressly forbid me to tell the girls stories from my younger years.
Madz sounds like heaven
Thanks! I do have what some may consider a “raw” side. Kinda like Rawhide. (snapping whip sound).
How weird am I? I’ll roll down my passenger window to tell people their brake lights are out. What amazes me is when more than one is out. My zippy lube always checks my lights so I can’t see going long enough for more than one to burn out. But I’m weird that way I guess.
So… what to do when stopped. Here are a few suggestions to try or to avoid.
For Women – male straight cop – try for some physical contact – no male is immune to any woman’s touch… unless you look like Rosie or Whoopie. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
If you’ve been drinking – first off you’re an idiot, no excuse, no argument – and if you have an open beer in your hand – please floor it and drive in to a concrete median to thin the herd – but if the booze doesn’t give you enough liquid courage…and you have a passenger (ok so driving in to the median was harsh) immediately empty the beer on that person’s shirt and lap. Tell the copy you need to get your drunk friend home because he’s stinking up your car; puked all over his shirt; wet himself; and you were the only one sober to drive him home.
I was speeding because I heard there was going to be a meteor shower and needed to get in to the safety bunker.
How fast was I going? Fast enough to get the attention of one of the city’s finest. Jesus loves you and so do I. Can we talk about Jesus and all the wonderful joy he has brought to my life (and then just don’t shut up until he gets back in the cruiser and runs away).
How much have I had to drink? Including alcohol?
Do I know how fast I was going? It depends on how long you’ve been following me.
– Fat copy – male or female – God I love a (man or woman) in uniform – so flattering and slimming.
Straight Male cop and you’re a guy – insist on a full body TSA ball squeeze pat down. And then when he refuses, shout discrimination…
For Men – Lady cop? And doesn’t look all lesbianny? three words – ball cleav age. No lady can resist the charms of the twin valleys on either side of the beast.
For Men – Male cop that looks like he’s from the Village People? – see above – also try man handling your man handle absent mindedly to distract him
– Butch lady copy – avoid the word “sir” at all costs
Maybe Santa will bring an edit button so I fix all the times I wrote copy instead of cop
I just figured it was a Canadian slang term?
My co-worker just told me this hilarious story about being pulled over by the “man” that she never told me:
She attended a Christmas party with us at our friend’s house a few years back. She was given a belated birthday present by the “hostess” of the party. Well, my co-worker has always refers to herself as “the princess”….so attached to the gift was a huge childs rhinestone tiara bejeweled with rhinestones and feathers as a joke.
After being at the party for a few hours, buzzed, she had to leave to attend another party way across town. Almost at her destination, she blows through a stop sign and was immediately pulled over. She said she rolls down her window and the cop says “Where y’goin’ in such a hurry?” She tells him her sisters car broke down and she was going to pick her up. He runs her plate and info, comes back and just smiles at her and told her he’s giving her an early Chrismas present….no ticket..just a warning.
She gets to the party. Parks her car. Pulls down the visor mirror to put some lip gloss on and realizes she never took the tiara off her head.
I live about an hour and a half away from Detroit and was on my way home from a Tiger game where I drank four big beers. For the first time in my life I actually saw my headlight burn out. I was buzzing and started to get nervous. I made it off the interstate and started the 7 mile trip into the sticks. About six miles in a deputy flies by and whips a u-turn to come after me. I immediately pull over and get my credentials ready. He walks up and asked if I knew why I was pulled over. I told him I saw the headlight burn out on the way home from the Tiger’s game. He starts a conversation about the game, we talk for about ten minutes, he hands me my stuff back and tells me to have a good night. He never ran me or even told me to get the headlight fixed. We both pull off the shoulder and the next oncoming car had a headlight out. He was off again. HA!
I live in fear of being pulled over by the dog police for operating a dog without a license.
Things were different for cops in the 70’s, because you could get let off much more easily. I bunch of us got pulled over whith open beer bottles in the car and the cop let us off because we were very polite and contrite.
But the best story was a friend on mine, who, after dropping me off after a full two days of drinking debauchery, had one traffic light to get through to get home. By the way, dis I say that we were both totally plastered? While waiting at the light, all of a sudden a cop is banging on his window. Rolling the window down my friend says “What’s the problem officer?”. The cop says, “What are you doing”. Cocky friend says, “Waiting for the light to change”. Cop: “Well it’s changed three times already”… and it indeed had…
The cop knew my friend and his parents though, and made him pull the car (on the other side of the light!) over and gave him a ride home.
Other than driving into a house that cost me a failure to control citation (even though I was full of wine and hemp) I have only had 2 other encounters with the law. One was a speeding ticket (in a ’74 Beetle of all things) and the other was a stop by the Vienna, WV PD to tell me my tail lights were out. No ticket that time. The 70’s weren’t all that different.
Chuck…
Were you able to ascertain whether the house made a “good faith effort” to get out of the way? I remember the 70s too, and a couple of alleged “fixed-position objects” jumped into my line of flight during that decade. The objects that took me from 60 to 0 were usually recklessly cavorting where they shouldn’t have been. The rest I married.
As I recall.
jtb
Actually the damn thing simply stood rooted in one spot jeering, daring me into a game of ranch-style chicken. (See what I did there?)
I got pulled over in the middle of the night, dead of winter years ago after I had worked 2 of my 3 jobs, driven to another town for night class and was looking forward to a drive home and then 4 hours of sleep before I got to do it all again. I totally saw the light change but just thought ahh fukket mabey if I hit something I’ll get a little rest in the ER and a day off…. The cop asked for my info & as I streatched over to the glove box in my tiny wool skirt and thigh highs it hit me that he was getting a whole eyefull. Since I was still exhausted and now resigned to a ticket I just asked him to hurry up since I was freezen my ass off. He didnt crack a smile or even bother to go back to his car and run stuff, he just looked at it and told me to be safe, have a good night, and stay warm. Yep will do and hopefully the memory of the last 2 mins will keep you warm as well officer!
I love getting a new set of thick heavy finger calluses.
I would just point out that many kinds of blindness are preventable.
jtb
Some visuals can be held close to the heart like warm, snuggly kittens.
I fear that icecycle66 isn’t the only one here with a new set of thick calluses – what with the strong subliminal messages from the last post on pounding it for sweet relief.
Incidentally, there should be a Zazzle or CafePress store with the best messages from the WVSR on it – I’d totally buy the sweet relief shirt.
–Steve
This is the Daily Planet. At the end of each cycle, we release bon mots into the wind like doves. Thus is the life of a Reporter. Some things, like allegorical allusions of masturbation are best set free.
jtb
touché
BTW, Jeff…this has turned out to be one of the absolute BEST questions of the day. Hopefully someday soon a scientist will develop a flying car so I won’t have to share the highway with my fellow surf reporters! 🙂
and what about that anyway? One of the biggest dreams of my yoof was looking forward to the 90’s when we’d have hovercraft cars, personal helicopters (perhaps even ones that snapped on to our vehicles – and cars that fly. Oh Mechanic’s Illustrated, you failed me.