Georgia on my mind
During our carefree, sobriety-free college days, Dave, Jim and I decided that a drive to Florida would be a good idea. Since we were young and knew everything we knew that driving through Georgia at 90mph would get us there rather quick. Unbeknowst to us the Georgia troopers are ever on the lookout for cars with northern plates, especially ones that are going faster than 56 in a 55. It wasn't long before we were being persued by the local gendarme. We knew that the best course of action was to pull over. The cop approached the car wearing his broad brimmed hat and mirrored sunglasses. Jim, sitting in the back seat, looks at him and starts laughing saying that the guy looks like something out of "Cool Hand Luke."
The cop strolls up to the window and asks, "Boy, do you know how fast you were going?"
Dave, who was driving at the time, replies "I guess we were speeding."
"Boy, you were doing 92 in a 55."
We were all silent.
The officer states, "Boy, nobody goes through Georgia that fast."
Jim, ever the joker and never knowing when to keep his mouth shut, suddenly remembers his US history and pipes up "Sherman did!"
The officer has us get out of the car. He thoroughly searches the vehicle and finds nothing illegal. He begins to give us a stern lecture on safe driving.
At this point, Jim has had enough of the cop's antics and asks him, "What is your problem? Did you go to prick school?" The cop just stares at him. At least we thought he was behind those mirrored glasses.
"Graduate cum laude?"
"What did you say son?"
"Did you go to prick school or did somebody piss on your donut this morning?" are Jim's final words before the cop makes us pile into the back of his car. He drives us to the local station where we are forced to spend the night in a cell while they do a "background check" on us. We all had clean records (at the time) and were finally released in the morning.
(StinkyCheeseMan, Sat 24 Sep 2005, 14:57, Reply)