Today is Mornic Monday, so you get to hear a story about what a huge Moron I am and maybe that will make your Monday a little less suckified.
If you want to see my take on the Anniversary of Katrina go here, it’s not funny, so you probably want to say here.
Back elevnty kabillion years ago when I was a teenager. ( the 80’s) The United States decided it would be an awesome idea to change over to the Metric System. ( look that up on google under things American tried and failed at). To this day only athletic events and soda come in metric. (ie: 5 k run and 2 liter of soda)
I am not sure how much money was spent changing all the speed limit signs to KMPR but it was a waste. Fortunately for me it was a mistake that would help one day.
So I had this friend Sally, who I can only describe as an awesome friend yet a horrible influence. And she danced around with Mary Jane a bit, and I was always the designated dork ( driver).
We lived in Central Florida and our car knew the route to Daytona Beach better than the route to school because really? I could not be bothered with my drunken social studies/drivers ed teacher when Daytona was just a speeding ticket away.
So Sally and her friend shook their groove thing with Mary Jane and then we headed to Daytona.
Sally, looked very Italian, but for some reason she had it in her precious little bonged out brain she looked oriental when she was “dancing”. Why argue it’s pointless. Plus she really thought EVERYTHING WAS FUNNY.
We were flying down the highway headed to Daytona while my education was getting farther and farther in my review mirror and that just made it a lovely day.
About 2/3rds of the way to our destination, I felt my stomach knot up. The blue lights of death. In the mirror. Breathing rapid, and sweating like a hooker on their way to Daytona busted for skipping school and about 30 other infractions.
My mind was blank, my heart was racing. The cop walks up to the car and as I rolled down the window it looked like a cheech and chong movie, as smoke billowed out the crack
As luck would have it we pulled over right next to a sign like this.
COP: Do you ladies realize you were speeding?
A deep subliminal part of my brain that took over for self preservation I said the following:
a giant over friendly smile came over my entire body and
I shouted, “guter Tag, Offizier”
the cop looked at me and said.
Cop:- “you ladies you were going nearly 80 mph in a 50mph zone.”
I pointed to the sign and my dashboard and back and forth and smiled and looked like an idiot I said
Me:-“yeah sehr gut, Offizier- yeah, 80, yeah 80 sehr gut?????”
I smiled and pretended not to understand his English, and prayed he didn’t know what pitiful German I knew. It was last ditch effort to not get a ticket or go to jail. I happily admit I was near 80, even the sign actually meant 50mph, or 80kmh and I was near 80mph.
I knew about 10 words in German, I faked it, because my guess what he didn’t know any German.
His face was confused and slightly agitated as he leaned over to look at my passenger, and into what could have only smelled like a friggin high school bathroom right after lunch.
He looks at Sally who is freaking out and I think she was eating the bag of oregano type looking stuff.
she places her hands together, squints her eyes, nods and says,
is this an oriental word? probably not.
Was the cop so busy laughing at our sad yet very inventive asses. Yes. He laughed and said, “OK, well Ms . German lady, get your oriental friend to a restaurant so she can get something to eat and I expect you to slow down.”
He then just walked away and drove off.
Don’t get me wrong people I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But I wonder if and how he explained the German chick and the Italian Asian who smelled like cheech and chong.
Thank you Mr Cop dude. We should have went up the river but you gave us extra credit for thinking outside the box. I owe you.
So as you can see people, being a moron didn’t just happen, I fine tuned my Moronic Status over a period of decades.
Go forth and kick Monday in the nads, I intend to.
Reminds me of the time my ex had “glassy eyes” from alcohol and told the cop we were fighting and he’d been crying!
LOL, it takes a secure man to blame his glossy eyes on a broken heart.
Spell check and a quick editory read-through could have saved you the extreme embarrassment I’m sure you are going thru…assuming it registers thru all the alcohol.
Other than that, I’m sure the cop was quite happy just to have talked to two lovely underage beach chicks.
Hey Shane, sad to report no alcohol was used in the writings of this post. Also I put out 4 articles last night aft 10pm and was really trying to get to bed so I would be in a situation to where I could drive today. It’s no excuse. But I did read over every article around 10 times, unless you have wordpress the spell check is weird because you don’t get to go back and see what you messed up only the current line your typing and if you ( meaning ME) stop typing to fix everything that second you lose the free flow of the story.. I don’t have an editor. I probably should have an editor especially since I am writing so many places now, but I think they work on % and I am pretty sure they wont take a % of 0 for pay. The “extreme embarrassment” you implied I was going “thru” if it registered “thru” the alcohol. Well I’m not embarrassed or drunk. I also spelled “through correctly”. But here’s the dealio. If you go read my about page. I don’t claim to be a writer, or a journalist or a news source or ever grammatically correct since my technical writing sucks. But this is my place. So thanks for your “lovely” comment.
Aww you found the one FHP Officer that would cut ya a break. Most didnt.. trust me when I say that. But a few did, when you flashed ( accidentally of course) the twins.
Sure, blame lack of sleep…how many times do I have to tell ya? – blame the Chiari!
Yeah, I was just lazy on the thru thing…or maybe it was…THE CHIARI!!!!
And actually, you’re a pretty good righter d8^). You are able to get your point across in a clear and usually humorous way.
ROTFLOL. ….. I love this story! Wish I was there that day 🙂
I love it, hysterical-ness! I myself have never, ever done the dance with Mary Jane….but get a few drinks in me and I fancy myself the best damn hugger & dancer in town.
Yeah I was the designated driver. I didn’t dance with her either, but somehow I think she rubbed off on me.
this post, sponsored by depends, cause this situation will make you need them
Reminds me of that Saturday Night Live Sketch where the guy says, “Ass-wee-pay” instead of asswipe. So funny!
I was just thinking wow, we are so going down for this. “AssHo”.. and the hand movement and bowing.. really? he must have laughed his butt off at us.. how we survived I have no idea.
OMG… “Assho”? She called him an asshole and he told you to take her to get something to eat? ROFL!
What a lovely segue into my post about incontinence panties. Now I wish I had told them to PLEASE PLEASE send them – THIS would have been primo material to test them out!
[…] Moronic Monday- I spilled the beans about my friend dancing with Mary Jane and our inexplicable escape from a ticket/jail time, that probably made it into the journal of horrible excuses cop hall of fame. […]
OH you are so lucky here, unless you are related to the cop you go straight to jail. Which one is you in the picture?
Great post and excellent story. Good thing you could speak a little german 😉