Somewhere between Butler and Columbus.
Blue, flashing lights in my rear-view mirror;
Sherifff, in uniform, complete with badge.
Mr. Sheriff Guy: "What's the rush?"
Driver Me: "Was I speeding?"
Mr. Sheriff Guy: "Yes, ma'am."
Driver Me: "Really? What's the speed limit? I thought it was 65."
Mr. Sheriff Guy: "Yes, ma'am. It's 65. Maybe it wasn't you."
Driver Me: Raising my left hand to swear an oath.
"I promise you I wasn't speeding. I saw you and looked down to check."
Mr. Sheriff Guy: "Yes, ma'am. Well, Okay. It probably wasn't you. Be careful now."
From Driver Me: Thank you, Mr. Sheriff Guy. You were very nice and pleasant. And I promise you, I wasn't speeding. I never ever got weak-kneed. My heart didn't race. And believe me, if I'd been guilty, I wouldn't have been able to put a whole sentence together. And I probably would have cried. But in all reality, did you really think that that 1991 Geo Prizm would be able to go over 65?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Posted by Weezer at 10:29 PM