After work yesterday, I met up with Sam and her friend Chrissie at happy hour. Over three cocktails, the topic of sex came up, and we became very graphic and open. It turns out Chrissie has been married 13 years and has never owned a vibrator. Sam and I committed to remedying that, so we left the bar and headed to the nearest sex store. I bought Chrissie an oscillating egg, and Sam bought her a rabbit. I figure she’ll thank us for that sometime soon. Her husband should, too.
While we were at the store, the Kaiser called me and asked if I wanted to join him for a beer at the Pub. You readers know I don’t go to the Pub very often anymore, so it sounded fun. I showed up there and had chicken strips and two beers. At about 9:00, Meg texted me and asked me what I was doing, and if I wanted to meet up, so I left the Kaiser.
I wasn’t driving five minutes when I saw cop-car lights in my rear-view mirror. I knew they were for me, and my stomach did a somersault. At three whiskeys and two beers, I knew I would fail any sobriety test he would give me. There was nothing I could do. I pulled over, and got my drivers’ license, registration, and proof of insurance ready. The cop walked up to my car. He asked if I knew why he’d pulled me over, and I said I didn’t. He claimed I had made an illegal left-turn. He asked if I’d had anything to drink. “No, officer. Not a drop,” I answered. He took my documents to his cruiser, and I crossed myself three times and pulled out my lawyer’s card from my wallet, ready to make the call I’d hoped I’d never make. My phone rang. It was Meg. “I just got pulled over, I’ll call you back,” I said.
The cop returned to my car, and gave me back my docs. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he told me. Then he threw me for a little of a loop: “Do you have your weapon in the car?”
“Yes, officer, in my console,” I answered. My concealed weapons permit must have showed on his computer.
“Ok. Have a good night.”
I drove home. Meg came over. I woke up at 4:00 this morning, and had a panic attack at how close a call that was. I’m going to church today to light a candle in thanksgiving, and resolving to be smarter about these things.
While we were at the store, the Kaiser called me and asked if I wanted to join him for a beer at the Pub. You readers know I don’t go to the Pub very often anymore, so it sounded fun. I showed up there and had chicken strips and two beers. At about 9:00, Meg texted me and asked me what I was doing, and if I wanted to meet up, so I left the Kaiser.
I wasn’t driving five minutes when I saw cop-car lights in my rear-view mirror. I knew they were for me, and my stomach did a somersault. At three whiskeys and two beers, I knew I would fail any sobriety test he would give me. There was nothing I could do. I pulled over, and got my drivers’ license, registration, and proof of insurance ready. The cop walked up to my car. He asked if I knew why he’d pulled me over, and I said I didn’t. He claimed I had made an illegal left-turn. He asked if I’d had anything to drink. “No, officer. Not a drop,” I answered. He took my documents to his cruiser, and I crossed myself three times and pulled out my lawyer’s card from my wallet, ready to make the call I’d hoped I’d never make. My phone rang. It was Meg. “I just got pulled over, I’ll call you back,” I said.
The cop returned to my car, and gave me back my docs. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he told me. Then he threw me for a little of a loop: “Do you have your weapon in the car?”
“Yes, officer, in my console,” I answered. My concealed weapons permit must have showed on his computer.
“Ok. Have a good night.”
I drove home. Meg came over. I woke up at 4:00 this morning, and had a panic attack at how close a call that was. I’m going to church today to light a candle in thanksgiving, and resolving to be smarter about these things.
6 comments:
I can do you one better. I got stopped at a checkpoint not even a block from my house and there was no way to get around it without looking like I had something to hide, which I did. I had vodka and lemonade in a cup in the middle console of my car. The officer shown his light right on it when he asked if I had been drinking and did I have an open container. I said "no, officer." Did I mention I was 19? Someone must have been on my side that night because he waved me on through and said, "Drive safely."
I'm glad things worked out in your favor, too. There's nothing more life ruining than having a DUI attached to your name.
I was just WAITING for you to mention the weapon. I kept wondering how it could not come up. Yesssss. You go lover boy.
Glad you got out of that one. Whew! I once got pulled over pretty dang schnockered and somehow got away with it. It really freaked me out though and I was sure I was going to jail. I am glad too say I have grown up a little since then.
Thirty years here and no vibrator. I don't get it, having sex with plastic. Why not use a zucchini instead? Except in the Castro I wouldn't know where to shop and I'm on the opposite coast. Oh well. You really think I'm missing something???
The rabbit is lamesville - you need the Hitachi Magic Wand. Also, Bonnie has clearly never used a vibrator if she is comparing it to "sex with a zuchinni".
Damn, mayor, when you bring it you bring it strong -- with your 120v of robot goodness. Bonnie, just for you I'll throw together an entry on my thoughts on the designated hitter. Jamm and Bethany, I have been scared straight for a while . . . thanks for sharing your similar stories.
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