![]() ![]() I did however realize, early on, that when ever I'd spot the cop paint jobs to pounce on the brakes. I apologize for making him write up the stop sign. He apologizes for taking away my car when I had indeed bought it. I wait til the officer walks up laughing, calling me by my last name. ( not at all happy, that one ) No speed ticket but paid the tow after proving ownership.Ī Year later, same job, same hour, different route, I did a semi roll stop sign.Ī short distance on, the flashing blue-red lights. It meant a phone call to get my the wife from bed so I can get to work. His solution is to radio for their tow truck ( ha ha ha ) to confiscate the property that is apparently not mine. My explanation of title, tag transfer is just words since I was dumb enough to leave the papers home. Officer tells me that a run of my plate comes back a Chevy. At 75 the mirror turns to a dance of blue and red. So I tromp the right pedal, check the mirror, check the speedo. In those days inexperience led me to think I gotta shake this nut. So visibility was not to be had due to tobacco, smoke stained glass. ![]() It was a cheapo deal that was in dire need of a clean up. The car I have, Pontiac, was just bought that day. Going to work at half past midnight, at 35mph on a country lane style but heavy traffic road, a pair of headlights appear in my trunk. I'm curious if anyone else out there in Jalopy Land has any 'Stealth Mode' stories. I'll also quote a former co-worker who said, "I was doing 70 when I passed the cop on the side of the road but I quickly leaned back in the seat with my elbow out the window like I was doing 55". Instinctively, I push the clutch in and my exhaust disappears as I roll by the scene of the crime to ride into the peaceful distance. Now my pipes are not the loudest, but they're certainly not the quietest, either. The first bit was uphill so I goose the gas and quickly crest the hill, and wouldn't you know it, a County Ossifer is writing up his fresh kill practically right there in my lap. Instead, I turned off the spur onto a county road which was the same distance but was "country cruising" and not "city dodge 'em cars". I could have taken the 5-lane spur to the divided highway loop and so on to the store. So earlier this afternoon, I was headed to the hardware store to pick up an odd size drill bit that I ordered. ![]()
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