I hate cops!
Last night I went to see the documentary Supersize Me with Steffan, Pete, and Mike. The movie was about this guy who eats McDonalds three meals a day for thirty days. It was pretty good I guess, although the guy didn't prove much that I didn't already know(eating McDonalds = you get fat). His vegan chef girlfriend was a real bitch too, constantly nagging at him for the way he eats. Then she told the camera that the saturated fats were blocking the blood flow to his penis and that he could no longer satisfy her as a woman. After the movie we stopped at Wendy's and then Blockbuster. By the time Steffan dropped me off at my house it was almost 12:30.
Immediately thereafter I began the five minute drive from my house to Faye's. Since it was 12:30 and I didn't see anyone around, I decided that it would be smart to completely blow off the stop sign at the end of Ten Mile Creek Road. That was mistake #1. My second mistake was going up Germantown hill at 71 miles per hour. Just as I was about to turn into Far Hills, a fucking cop came from out of nowhere and started flashing his lights at me. So I immediately pulled over, ignoring the voices in my head that were telling me to engage this pig in a high speed game of cat and mouse. Of course this asshole shines his little light right in my rearview mirror. Then he came waddling up to my window, asked for my license and registration, and then the big question:
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
I tried to look him in the eyes, but he was shining his goddamn flashlight directly in my face. All I could look at without being blinded was his enormous gut. So as I sat there staring at this bi-product of a career spent eating donuts and doing paperwork, I searched my brain desperately for an excuse; a valid reason for why I had been going almost twenty over the speed limit. I have spent literally hours thinking about what I would say if I ever found myself in this particular situation. I even came up with a number of excellent excuses which may have gotten me out of a ticket. But all I could think to say was, "Um...I was speeding."
The cop then said he saw me blow off the stop sign at the bottom of the hill. "Oh yeah..." I said as if it had skipped my mind. At this point I was pretty desperate, so I thought that maybe I could relate to this man on the human level.
"I was going to my girlfriend's house," I said with my most sincere face.
The cop then gave me a dirty look and said, "Well you're gonna be late." With that he went back to his car to write me a ticket. What a fucking asshole. Now I have to pay seventy-five dollars and the fee for court supervision. According to Griff I'll have to take some bullshit four hour class(he's taken it twice) on a Saturday just to get this fucking ticket off my record. I'm betting that at least nine people were shot to death while this cop was pulling over an innocent eighteen year old. Faye told me later that she knows two people who were shot at several times and they think nothing of it. What kind of a world do we live in when the police are so lazy that the American people grow accustomed to being shot at? Thanks to my being a demon on wheels, I successfully turned a five minute trip into a fifteen minute trip. Did I learn my lesson? Of course not; I just hate the fuzz even more than before. Later on we all watched Congo at Steffan's house.
When I got home I set the ticket on my desk and went to sleep. The next morning I woke up to the sound of my mom walking around in my room. I pretended to be asleep, listening as she went to my desk, picked up my ticket, looked at it, and walked out of the room. I thought for sure she was going to tell Eric and that the two of them would come up to my room later on to give me a stern "talking to". But when I woke up later that afternoon, I went downstairs to get some cereal and no one said anything about my ticket. Had it all been a dream? Had I imagined the whole thing? Perhaps I was like Sam Beckett and had accidentally lept into someone else for one night. So at one point my mom was in the other room and I yelled, "I guess you know about my ticket!" There was a long pause, followed by the sound of my mom going "Shhhhh!" Apparently we weren't going to talk about it.
My mom came up to my room later on with a big smile on her face. "There's Speed Joey!" she said. I asked her if she was mad, to which she laughed and replied, "No...you weren't mad when I got a ticket were you?" Needless to say I was shocked and appalled by her response. I thought for sure she was going to be pissed. She told me to hide the ticket from Eric, because he is an idiot and doesn't really need to know. She also said it would be a good idea to take the class to get it off my record. What a major relief that was. Now I just have a pay a couple hundred dollars and take a class with people just like me. Maybe I'll make a friend...
Immediately thereafter I began the five minute drive from my house to Faye's. Since it was 12:30 and I didn't see anyone around, I decided that it would be smart to completely blow off the stop sign at the end of Ten Mile Creek Road. That was mistake #1. My second mistake was going up Germantown hill at 71 miles per hour. Just as I was about to turn into Far Hills, a fucking cop came from out of nowhere and started flashing his lights at me. So I immediately pulled over, ignoring the voices in my head that were telling me to engage this pig in a high speed game of cat and mouse. Of course this asshole shines his little light right in my rearview mirror. Then he came waddling up to my window, asked for my license and registration, and then the big question:
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
I tried to look him in the eyes, but he was shining his goddamn flashlight directly in my face. All I could look at without being blinded was his enormous gut. So as I sat there staring at this bi-product of a career spent eating donuts and doing paperwork, I searched my brain desperately for an excuse; a valid reason for why I had been going almost twenty over the speed limit. I have spent literally hours thinking about what I would say if I ever found myself in this particular situation. I even came up with a number of excellent excuses which may have gotten me out of a ticket. But all I could think to say was, "Um...I was speeding."
The cop then said he saw me blow off the stop sign at the bottom of the hill. "Oh yeah..." I said as if it had skipped my mind. At this point I was pretty desperate, so I thought that maybe I could relate to this man on the human level.
"I was going to my girlfriend's house," I said with my most sincere face.
The cop then gave me a dirty look and said, "Well you're gonna be late." With that he went back to his car to write me a ticket. What a fucking asshole. Now I have to pay seventy-five dollars and the fee for court supervision. According to Griff I'll have to take some bullshit four hour class(he's taken it twice) on a Saturday just to get this fucking ticket off my record. I'm betting that at least nine people were shot to death while this cop was pulling over an innocent eighteen year old. Faye told me later that she knows two people who were shot at several times and they think nothing of it. What kind of a world do we live in when the police are so lazy that the American people grow accustomed to being shot at? Thanks to my being a demon on wheels, I successfully turned a five minute trip into a fifteen minute trip. Did I learn my lesson? Of course not; I just hate the fuzz even more than before. Later on we all watched Congo at Steffan's house.
When I got home I set the ticket on my desk and went to sleep. The next morning I woke up to the sound of my mom walking around in my room. I pretended to be asleep, listening as she went to my desk, picked up my ticket, looked at it, and walked out of the room. I thought for sure she was going to tell Eric and that the two of them would come up to my room later on to give me a stern "talking to". But when I woke up later that afternoon, I went downstairs to get some cereal and no one said anything about my ticket. Had it all been a dream? Had I imagined the whole thing? Perhaps I was like Sam Beckett and had accidentally lept into someone else for one night. So at one point my mom was in the other room and I yelled, "I guess you know about my ticket!" There was a long pause, followed by the sound of my mom going "Shhhhh!" Apparently we weren't going to talk about it.
My mom came up to my room later on with a big smile on her face. "There's Speed Joey!" she said. I asked her if she was mad, to which she laughed and replied, "No...you weren't mad when I got a ticket were you?" Needless to say I was shocked and appalled by her response. I thought for sure she was going to be pissed. She told me to hide the ticket from Eric, because he is an idiot and doesn't really need to know. She also said it would be a good idea to take the class to get it off my record. What a major relief that was. Now I just have a pay a couple hundred dollars and take a class with people just like me. Maybe I'll make a friend...