Monday, January 01, 2007


See – I told you. Ain’t nothin’ different today. Same ol’ shit as yesterday. The only thing that’s changed is the year’s last decimal. Oh yeah – and many of you may still be hung over from last night.

When I was younger I avoided going out on New Year’s Eve because I considered it amateur night. All the people who never drank picked New Year’s Eve to get loaded, normally on three drinks. Then they’d get in their cars and try to drive home.

I figured that with my luck, I’d be the one they’d hit head-on and kill. So, I stayed home. Besides, it was just another day. I had 364 other nights to go out and get drunk and the odds were better that I’d get home without another drunk killing me or getting stopped by the cops.

After I left my first wife, I went hog wild – bought a sports car and partied hardy. The car was a 5-year old MGB. Not the fastest car in the world, but it cornered well and would get up to 115. And it got up to 115 every night on my way home.

One night, or actually early one morning, I had dropped my girlfriend off at her place and headed home. When I hit the main road, I cranked it up to 65, 10 over the speed limit, and settled in. On the way to the interstate entrance the speed limit dropped from 55 to 45 then to 35. Screw it – I was on a roll and kept it at 65 all the way.

About ½ mile from the entrance ramp I saw the flashing red light behind me. I downshifted from 4th to 3rd then into 2nd and pulled onto the ramp’s shoulder. When the cop finally pulled in behind me, I already had my license and registration out. He walked up to my door, took the documents from my outstretched hand and walked back to his cruiser. Not a word was uttered.

A few minutes later he brought back my paperwork, including a speeding ticket, and started back to his car. He went about 5 steps, then turned around and came back to my door. “Wanna know how fast you were going?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“I clocked you at 62.”

Smart-ass that I am, I looked up at him and said, “My speedometer must be off – it read 65.”

He turned, walked back to his cruiser and made a U-turn to go back to his speed trap.

I got on I-81 and cranked that bitch up to 115.



No comments: