GETTING OLDER HUMOR

A distraught senior citizen phoned her doctor’s office.  “Is it true,” she wanted to know, “that the medication  you prescribed has to be taken for the rest of my life?”
“‘Yes, I’m afraid so,”‘ the doctor told her.
There was a moment of silence before the senior lady replied, “I’m wondering, then, just how serious is my condition because this prescription is marked ‘NO REFILLS’…”

***

My wife wanted me to take her to one of those restaurants where they make the food right in front of you.  I took her to a Subway.  That’s when the fight started.

***

The mother of a 17-year-old girl was concerned that   her daughter was having sex.

Worried the girl might become pregnant and adversely impact the family’s status, she consulted the family doctor.

The doctor told her that teenagers today were very willful and any attempt to stop the girl would probably result in rebellion.  He then told her to arrange for her daughter to be put on birth control and until then, talk to her and give her a box of condoms.

Later that evening, as her daughter was preparing for a date, the mother told her about the situation and handed her a box of condoms.

The girl burst out laughing and reached over to hug her mother, saying,  “Oh Mom! You don’t have to worry about that!  I’m dating Susan!”

***

A man went to church one day and afterward he stopped to shake the preacher’s hand.  He said, “Preacher, I’ll tell you, that was a damned fine sermon.    Damned good!”

The preacher said, “Thank you sir, but I’d rather you didn’t use profanity.”

The man said, “I was so damned impressed with that sermon I put five thousand dollars in the offering plate!”

The preacher said, “No shit?”

***

Groups of Americans were traveling by tour bus through Switzerland.  As they stopped at a cheese farm, a young guide led them through the process of cheese making, explaining that goat’s milk was used.  She showed the group a lovely hillside where many goats were grazing.

“These,” she explained, “Are the older goats put out to pasture when they no longer produce.”  She then asked, “What do you do in America with your old goats?”

A spry old gentleman answered, “They send us on bus tours!”

***

Golf and lunch at HOOTERS…

Two guys grow up together but after college one moves to New York State, the other to Florida.
They agree to meet every ten years in Vero Beach and play golf.
At age 30, they finish their round of golf and go to lunch.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know, they got the broads, with the big racks, and the tight shorts, and the legs”
“OK.”
Ten years later at age 40 they play.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.
“Why?”
“Well, you know, they got cold beer and the big screen TVs and everybody has a little action on the games.”
“OK.”
Ten years later at age 50 they play a round of golf.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“The food is pretty good and there is plenty of parking.”
”OK.”
At age 60 they play a round of golf.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“Wings are half price.”
“OK”
At age 70 they play a round of golf.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“They have 6 handicapped spaces right by the door.”
“OK.”
At age 80 they play a round of golf.
“Where you wanna go?”
“Hooters.”
“Why?”
“We’ve never been there before.”

***

 

Anatomy Of Insomnia

If there’s no rest for the wicked, I must be evil, Evil, EVIL!  😈  If it isn’t one thing – it’s everything.

The wife normally goes to bed several hours before my dead-tired deadline.  She has sleep apnea, a CPAP machine, and a full-face mask.  Usually, it is whisper quiet, producing a soft, slight susurration of white noise that helps to quickly transport me to slumber-land.  Then, there are nights like….

4:55 am
I enter the bedroom, dispossess the cat sleeping at her feet, call the two Scotty dogs into the bedroom and up on the bed, and close the door to keep the cat out, and the dogs from getting into trouble.  I manage to wedge myself between the dogs, and finally doze off.

6:00 AM
The wife moves in her sleep, breaking the seal on her facemask, which begins to do an imitation of an tenor sax.
I burrow back into the pillow, determined to fall back to sleep.
Whether because of the instrumental, or the cat in the hall, one of the dogs uses my leg as a starting block, and leaps to the floor and whines.
My bladder insists that we’re getting up.

I stumble into the bathroom.  In the illumination of a small nightlight, I find a puddle of toilet paper on the floor.  The evicted cat likes to play with the rolls.  We have small plastic clips that prevent this, but the wife, in a semi-conscious state, apparently forgot to put it on.
I turn on the light to see, so that I can rewind it.
I’m now awake enough to realize I have twenty words that I want to add to a blog.
I step into the computer room and turn on the light.
As I’m typing, the cat marches back and forth in front of the monitor, leaps on my shoulder, and yells in my ear.  I add a prompt to a different blog draft.

With all this going on, the dogs leak out of the bedroom, and insist that they need to go outside for another leak.  I trudge downstairs, put them out, wait, and bring them in.
With the orchestra tuning up, there’s no sense going back upstairs.  Maybe I can doze off on the couch.  I toss a throw over me and get comfy…. And two dogs lick my face to find out why I’m not in bed.

A different cat who’s always looking for warmth, jumps up on me, and snuggles behind my knees.  Warm and somnolent again, we both try to go to sleep.
The computer-room cat walks across my chest and yells in my ear, to explain that he was trying to tell me upstairs, that he wanted to be fed.  Off the couch and to the cat food.

It’s now after 7:00 AM.  Perhaps I could lie back in the recliner.  Two dogs jump up and settle between my legs.  Warm and drowsy, I can feel sleep approaching.
The cold cat is now at the top of the stairs, complaining.  The dogs again use me as starting blocks to go find out why, rocking the recliner.
Soon, one dog returns, along with the cat, which cuddles into my crotch.  My mind is now racing with a theme for a 100-word Flash Fiction.

8:05 AM  The son arrives home from work.  Two humans, two dogs, and three cats create a combination of a three-ring circus, and a four-alarm fire.
Always bad, my memory is worse when I’m tired.  I had a great idea for the upcoming A 2021 Challenge, but have already forgotten it.  By 9:00 AM I have most of this post composed, but I have to have the wife to a 1:00 PM appointment.  We’ll be back up by eleven.  If you see a zombie shuffling past, it’s not looking for brains.  It’s just me, looking for mine, and hoping for my (early/extended) afternoon nap.

Brilliant Comedy

Albert Einstein was also recognized as the original absent-minded professor. One day, on board a train, he was unable to find his ticket. The conductor said, “Take it easy. You’ll find it.”

When the conductor returned, the professor still couldn’t find the ticket. The conductor, recognizing the famous scientist, said, “I’m sure you bought a ticket. Forget about it.”

“You’re very kind,” the professor said, “but I must find it, otherwise I won’t know where to get off.”

—–

I had just moved to an address between Sunrise Ave. and Sunset Blvd., one of Sacramento’s major streets, and was explaining to a clerk where my home was located for billing purposes.

“I live between Sunrise and Sunset,” I told her.

“Oh, Honey,” she knowingly replied, “we all do.”

—–

The Game Warden stopped a deer hunter and asked to see his hunting license.

“This is last year’s license,” the warden informed him.

“I know,” said the hunter, “but I shouldn’t need a new license. I am only shooting at the deer I missed last year.”

—–

A little girl, dressed in her Sunday best, was running as fast as she could, trying not to be late for Bible class. As she ran she prayed, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late! Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late!”

As she was running and praying, she tripped on a curb and fell, getting her clothes dirty and tearing her dress. She got up, brushed herself off, and started running again.

As she ran she once again began to pray, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late! …But don’t shove me either.”

***

My English teacher used to tell me that I would never be very good at poetry, because of my dyslexia.

Well, I recently made three jugs and a vase – so there!

***

Imagine the conundrum of an Atheist,, stuck at a green light, behind a car with a bumper sticker that says, “Honk if you love Jesus.”

***

You can get lawyers at IKEA now, but you have to build your own case.

***

A WEE Bit More Scottish Humor

John decided to go golfing in Scotland with his buddy, Keith, so they loaded up John’s minivan and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard, so they pulled into a nearby farm… …and asked the attractive lady who answered the door, if they could spend the night.

I realize it’s terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I’m recently widowed.” she explained. “And I’m afraid the neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house.

Don’t worry.” John said. “We’ll be happy to sleep in the barn and if the weather breaks, we’ll be gone at first light.

The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night.

Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way and enjoyed a great weekend of golf.

But about nine months later, John got an unexpected letter from an attorney.

It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the golf weekend.

He dropped in on his friend Keith and asked, “Keith, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our golf holiday in Scotland about 9 months ago?

Yes, I do.” said Keith.

Did you, er, happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?

Well, um, yes!” Keith said, a little embarrassed about being found out, “I have to admit that I did.

And did you happen to give her my name instead of telling her your name?

Keith’s face turned beet red and he said, “Yeah, look, I’m sorry, buddy. I’m afraid I did. Why do you ask?”

John replied, “Well, she just died and left me everything.

What If, It’s Another Challenge

I am awed and amazed at the number of people who read these personal-reveal posts.  Thanx, and here is yet another one.

21: Something you just can’t seem to get over
23: Something you always think “What if….” About

I’m not much one for navel-gazing.  I feel that I am not entitled, but rather, pragmatic, fatalistic, realistic.  What is – IS!  The past is in the past.  It’s over, and cannot be changed.  Deal with it!  Time and psychic energy expended in worrying about ‘What Might Have Been ‘, is lost and wasted.

There are many people, often with an overcharged ego and an excess of entitlement, who feel that if they work hard and apply themselves, get a good education, and make what they feel are the right decisions, then God, or Karma, will ensure them success in life.

IT DON”T WORK LIKE THAT!  The universe is supremely disinterested in any one person.  It is almost impossible to fare well in life without taking these steps, but doing so is no guarantee of success.  No-one is assured a smooth ride.  Nothing is God-ordained and meant to be.

When most people think about “What If” and something they just can’t get over, they imagine that some small change in the past would improve their life in the present.  It’s just wishful thinking.  I’ve had hardly any free times in my busy life to brood about lost potential opportunities.

A very few times, I’ve wondered, What if I didn’t have learning disabilities?  What if I didn’t have my essential tremor?  What if I didn’t have a sieve where my memory should be?  Would I have achieved a post-secondary diploma?  Would I have got a six- or seven-figure job?  Would I have had a great career-arc, and have lots of money?  Would I have ‘married better’?

Then I hear the little flutter that warns of the butterfly effect, and the heavy tromp of Karma’s boots in the hall.  If things had been different, would I have done any better?  Would I have had to spend so much time and mental energy getting my diploma and continuing study to master a trade – that I didn’t have time to study and appreciate the English language?

Would I have to rely on aides and secretaries to make my reports and directives literate and intelligible?  Would I have failed to learn to read for enjoyment – would I be incapable of composing blog posts, both of which now occupy me in my retirement?

Money can’t buy happiness, although it makes looking for it a lot easier.  Would I have married better, and would I have great amounts of money in savings and retirement funds, or would I have a string of three, successively-younger trophy wives, whose alimonies empty my bank accounts, and I live in a bachelor apartment till I die on the job, because I can’t afford to retire?

They say that you can’t cheat an honest man.  You can, it just takes so much extra time and effort that it’s not usually worth it.  Similarly, no-one wants to bother stealing from a poor man.  If the stock market nosedives, I don’t care.  If I’d been smart enough to make a lot of money, I might have been dumb enough to meet a Bernie Madoff, or a Nigerian prince.

Strive and struggle to make the most of what you can.  Accept the present, and face the future.  Don’t get a sore neck from looking back at what if!  Let sleeping dogs lie, and don’t trip over them.  My readers are my riches.  You can compound your interest by showing up again in a couple of days.  😀

The Jokes Just Suit Me

The fellow was being sold a very cheap suit. “But the left arm is a lot longer than the right arm,” he complained.

“That’s why the suit is such a bargain,” the sales clerk explained. “Just cock your left shoulder up a little, like this, and tuck this left lapel under your chin a bit, like this.”

“But the right leg is way too short,” argued the customer.

“No problem,” the sales clerk answered. “Just keep your right knee bent a little at all times, walk like this, and no one will notice. That’s why this suit is only $30.”

Finally, the fellow bought the suit, cocked his left shoulder into the air, tucked the suit’s left lapel under his chin, bent his right knee, and limped out of the store toward his car. Two doctors happened along and noticed him. “Good heavens,” the first doctor said to the second, “look at that poor crippled fellow.”

“Yeah,” answered the second doctor. “But doesn’t that suit fit great?”

***

An employee went to see his supervisor. “Boss,” he said, “we’re doing some heavy housecleaning at home tomorrow, and my wife asked me for some help with the attic and the garage, moving and hauling stuff.”

“We’re shorthanded,” the boss replied. “I can’t give you the day off.”

“Thanks boss,” said the employee. “I knew I could count on you!”

***

“What’s that piece of cord tied around your finger for?”
“My wife put it there to remind me to take a letter to the Post Office.”
“And did you mail it?”
“No, she forgot to give me the letter.”

***

I was desperately trying to get my wife’s attention.  So I sat down on the couch, and looked comfortable; that seemed to do the trick.

***

A wife walked into the kitchen to find her husband stalking around with a flyswatter.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hunting flies.” he replied.
“Oh, kill any?”
“Yeah!  Three males and two females.”
Intrigued, she asked, “How can you tell the difference?”
“Three were on a beer can, and two were on the telephone.”

***

Playing golf with his buddies, my grandfather had to make a slick 25-foot putt. As he lined it up, he announced, “I have a dollar bill that says I can make this putt. Does anyone want to bet?”

His three friends eagerly agreed to the wager. My grandfather missed the putt by ten feet, and his friends gathered around to collect their money. Granddad pulled out a dollar bill on which he had written, “I can make this putt.”

His pals are still trying to collect on the bet and grandpa is too.

—–

My drama queen teenage daughter was recounting to my seemingly uninterested husband what she deemed a near-death experience and concluded the story with, “And I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, my husband replied, “Wow! That must have been a sad short story.”

—–

Just helped my neighbor throw a rolled up carpet in the dumpster…
Her boyfriend would have helped but he is out of town.

’21 A To Z Challenge – B

Back in the old days, you young whippersnappers, I occasionally published ‘Remember When’ posts, to pump up my older readers’ nostalgia, and show the younger ones what they may be fortunate to have missed.

This year, for the letter B, I’ve decided to rant and rave about the

BANDERSNATCH

an imaginary wild animal of fierce disposition.

a person of uncouth or unconventional habits, attitudes, etc., especially one considered a menace, nuisance, or the like.

The word was coined, with the first meaning, about 1855 by the Anglican Deacon, the Reverend Charles Dodgson, hiding his identity as the author Lewis Carroll.  Hide he should!  He wrote about fantastical, imaginary creatures, and strange words that didn’t exist.  In his Alice in Wonderland books, he has poor Alice eating magic mushrooms, and drinking absinth-like liquids which distort her perceptions and cause hallucinations, making her to seem to shrink and grow.  The good pastor was a drug fiend.

From the original meaning has come the more recent value, and much of it may be due to recreational drug use.  Nostalgiac and déjà vu terms for these people might include miscreant, or ruffian.  Today’s paper printed three Op-Ed letters, and they were all about people who litter, especially the community trails.

One woman says that she and her husband go out (properly masked) for walks together.  Each of them takes a store-issued plastic bag.  They don’t get a block away, before both are stuffed full of picked-up trash.  There are garbage pails each block, where the trail crosses a street, yet these lazy swine can’t wait even that long.  Some clean up after their dogs…. and then toss the compostable bags into the undergrowth.  Some of them hang up on bushes, making them look like Bizarro Christmas trees.

Forty years ago, one of the city’s mottos was, Kitchener – Klean As A Kitchen.  More recently, one of the local newspaper wags has suggested, Kitchener – Klean As A Kow-shed.  Spanking unruly children is no longer allowed, but I’d like to take a few of these Bandersnatches out behind the woodpile, and introduce their posteriors to a good length of flat maple.  Would you like to watch the YouTube video?  👿

’20 A To Z Challenge – T

Amplified and heterodyned gravitonic waves from a giant Black Hole, in a far-off galaxy, https://www.msn.com/en-ca/kids/science/oldest-quasar-and-supermassive-black-hole-discovered-in-the-distant-universe/ar-BB1cLUOj?li=AAggFp5  produced an inversion in space-time which resulted in a reversal of publishing my T and U blogposts.  (Definitely not my confusion and lousy memory.)  Here’s what you missed, two weeks ago.

Little Miss Muffet, sat on her

TUFFET

a low stool; footstool.
Eating her curds and whey.  Along came a spider, who sat down beside her and said, “What’s in the bowl, bitch?”

She tossed her tousled tresses, and said, “It’s getting too damned crowded in here!  I’m going outside for some fresh air.  She trekked her pert little tush outside, and plunked it down on a

TUSSOCK

a tuft or clump of growing grass or the like.

She said, “And it ain’t curds and whey!  Who the Hell eats curds and whey, anymore??  Effete vegans, and twee guys with man-buns??!  (Speaking of which – Has anyone seen that horrible Uber Eats commercial, with the male(?) gymnast??  I don’t have to ask, but I do try to tell him, to turn down the GAY a notch.)  This, and a beer, is the “Breakfast of Champions.”  This, with a beer poured over it, is the breakfast of champions.  This is my namesake cereal, the one that Quaker named after me, ‘cause I’m so cute and well-rounded – Muffets.”

So, when I say that I ate a muffet, it’s not like Little Hot Welding Rod Little Red Riding Hood.  She was on her way to Granny’s, through the deep, dark forest, when a big, bad wolf jumped out and said, “I’m going to eat you.”  Red replied, “Eat, eat, eat!  Doesn’t anybody screw anymore?”

So, don’t screw around.  Stop back in a couple of days.  If I’ve finished my cereal, there’s a good chance that I might have something almost significant to say.   🙄

’20 A To Z Challenge – H

A To Z ChallengeLetter H

I never forget a face, but for you, I‘ll make an exception.
You look familiar.  Have you visited my site before?

I’ve got a word all picked out for the letter H.  It’s……. Uh…. around here somewhere.  Now where did I put it??!

Memory Loss

Ah yes, I wanted to tell you about

HYPOMNESIA

noun: Impaired memory.
Abnormally poor memory of the past. As compared to hypermnesia and amnesia. From hypo- + the Greek mneme, memory.
Excessive deposits of copper in the brain may cause neurological disorders such as Parkinson-like symptomsincluding bradykinesiatremor and dystonia, or neuropsychiatric symptoms, such as hypomnesia, dysgnosia, and personality abnormalities.

This is the ‘Learning Disorder’ that I’ve been fighting all my life, complete with essential tremor and lack of social connection.  I can forget someone’s name, while I’m still shaking hands with him.  It’s why I did not go far in school.  I’m not stupid, far from it.  I can understand complex concepts, but I just couldn’t remember them for exams.

I envy people like my son.  I have an extra 25 years of experience, but our heads are both stuffed with about the same amount of trivia.  Where he can recall an esoteric fact at the drop of a pun, I’m like Rain Man, from the movie.  Three days too late it’s, “Qantas!  Definitely Qantas!”

While good, he does not have my opposite, hypermnesia.  Some people mistakenly call that ‘Photographic Memory.’  That term only applies to things which are seen, like text, or pictures.  Eidetic Memory is a better name.  That includes sounds, physical and emotional feelings, aromas, and tastes.

It’s too late in my life to be successful, even with their help, but I adore the advent of computers.  I often use mine to be my memory for me – if I can just recall where I cached my list of passwords.  Even with their assistance, I will never have Total Recall, like the movie title.  I prefer We Can Remember It For You Wholesale, the title of Philip K. Dick’s book, that the 2 movies were named from.

Forgetful

I recently ran into a man I worked with for 15 years, up till 15 years ago.  Use It Or Lose It!  We chatted for ten minutes about the bad old days.  I knew that he was from Uganda, 30 miles north of the equator, but it wasn‘t till after he’d walked away, that I finally remembered his name – so good they named him twice – Karim Karim.

Thoughts, memories, ideas, blog themes – as fleeting and ephemeral as mayflies, or moths around a porch light, I have learned to jot them down, or enter them into an electronic file WHEN they happen – or I lose them.

I’m sure that there were a couple, or several, other points that I wished to add to this post.  They are gone like dew on the grass on a sunny morning.  I forgot them.  Please, don’t you forget to stop by again in a couple of days.  When I do finally remember to compose something, it is often interesting and informative enough to be worth reading.

Flash Fiction #231

Boxing Day

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

BOXING DAY

I am a genius, if I may say so myself – and I have to – ‘cause you won’t acknowledge my brains.  I’ve solved two irritations, with one brilliant idea.

To cut costs, the city now collects garbage every two weeks.  Hauling out one extra-heavy, or two regular bags, was a hassle.  Breaking down boxes from on-line Amazon shopping was a pain.

I peel off the labels, fill them with garbage, and leave them outside the door.  Within an hour, some porch pirate steals my used tea-bags, coffee grounds and banana peels.  Some boxes I ‘accidently’ forget on the subway, during my commute.

***

Got to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

friday-fictioneers-badge-web

Have You Ever Called The Police?

BC Mountie

In the wake of the George Floyd, Black Man Death By Minnesota Cop fiasco, MSN’s daily poll asked
Have you ever called the police?

Usually, they show up just when you don’t want them.  When it happens to someone else, we revel in the schadenfreude.  I was recently held up at a major intersection by a driver who – finally – made an illegal left turn…. right in front of a cop car.

The only time I ever called the police was the night that I was a little late for my Security Guard shift at a downtown hotel.  I was allowed to park free in the hotel’s parking garage, and keeping an eye on its contents was part of my job.

Around 2 AM, I noticed a teenage boy wandering among the cars, and went out to accost him.  He quickly disappeared.  I went to my car to get my lunch and found that, in my haste, I was the only one who forgot to lock my car.  In a garage full of a hundred Cadillacs, BMWs, and Mercedes, he got into my little Volkswagen and lifted a cheap backpack, a towel, my lunch, two pocket books and a bag of hard candies.

With no hope of getting them back, I called the station to give a description and incident report.  Two hours later, a him-and-her cruiser team showed up to take a statement, and I was offered a beer from a six-pack they had on the front floor with them.

How comfortable do you feel when in the presence of police officers?
Very comfortable
Somewhat comfortable
Somewhat uncomfortable
Very uncomfortable
I don’t know

Somewhere between Somewhat, and Very Comfortable.  I begin with ‘White Man’s Privilege’.  I am far less likely to have a bad interaction, than members of many other groups.  I have been exposed to members of police forces at various levels, all my life.  I have seen them perform stupid, questionable, dangerous, and illegal acts (see six-pack, above).  I am not impressed.  They put on their egotistic persona one leg at a time, the same as I do.

My own self-confidence borders on arrogance, but that is a fine line that should not be crossed.  Police forces, and most individual officers – including the females – run on testosterone.  They like to feel that they are the alpha, but are realistic enough to accept that there are those above and outside them.  I can dismiss or discount them, but I’d better not disrespect.

It is best to sternly treat them as a schoolmarm would deal with a ten-year-old bully.  EVERYTHING is illegal.  If they think that they have been insulted, they have ways to make even an innocent man guilty.

When I worked as a Security Guard, I was accepted as one of the pack – a wolf cub – but one of them, someone in a uniform, trying to keep order.  Police don’t necessarily want to enforce the law.  They just want social peace and quiet.

Have you ever been stopped by the police?
Yes
No
I don’t know

I would be interested to meet the hermit who has never been stopped by the police, at least once in their life.  Just before I turned 13, a group of us yobs were returning from the beach bowling alley, down at the south edge of town, after it closed at 1 AM on a warm August night.  A half-block from the main street, there was a lane – an alley – which ran behind the stores, for deliveries.  The group had come to a stop while we discussed something.  I noticed headlights coming up the street behind us.  They got brighter, but they didn’t pass.

I turned, to see the local police cruiser nestling up to the group.  I threw a startled look, and took off running full-tilt up the alley.  Wellll….  Barney lit ‘em up – lights and siren, in hot pursuit.  If I had wanted to ‘escape,’ there were walkways.  I gave him room on one side and continued up the lane.  The cruiser screamed past, he cut me off…. and I calmly walked over to the car.

He tumbled out, and immediately demanded;
Why did you run??!
Because I can.
Where are you coming from?
The bowling alley.
What were you doing?
I just stared at him – fast food, girls, entertainment, swimming.
Well, why did you run??!
Exercise?  Youthful exuberance?
Where are you going?
Home.
Well, you make sure that you go straight home, (which he can’t legally demand) and don’t let me catch you (doing what?) again!

I have been waved over into several RIDE Program checkpoints, both in a car, and on my motorcycle, during the Oktoberfest drunken craziness week.
I was stopped while driving the daughter back from a dog breeder, because she was cuddling her adopted puppy on her chest/shoulder.  The patrolman marched up to the car, realized that she was holding a dog, and waved us on.  If you’re in an accident, it’s acceptable to kill a pet – but children must be restrained in approved car seats.  My Weekend Weak-End

I was stopped at 1:30 AM – in August – for going too fast in a school zone.  He was right, but he was also bored, and wanted to flex his legal muscle.  I didn’t get a speeding ticket, but a $30 fine for not having the most recent proof of insurance in the car.

I was stopped, driving three co-workers home after a 4PM to 1:30 AM shift at a railway warehouse on the edge of town.  We just reached the end of the driveway, when a cruiser went past to the right.  I turned left – in-town – but soon had flashing lights behind me.
What are you guys doing?
Going home after work at XXX Transport.
I didn’t know anybody worked out here on Saturday.
(Then you don’t know your patrol area well)
But officer, this is the end of a Friday night shift.
Oh…. yeah.  Okay, away you go.

The site manager, and the shipper, both drove past while we were detained, after stopping to lock the gate, and wanted to know what and why on Monday.

I am bewildered by the existence of an “I Don’t Know” option at the end of the second and third questions.  If you’ve been pulled over, or had to call the police, wouldn’t you know??  Wouldn’t it be exciting enough to be memorable??!

Martha, that time we had a home invasion, and those three guys with guns broke into the house, what did we do?  Did we go on the Dr. Phil Show?   🙄