We need to set the stage with Silas as the driver of the ill-fated vehicle, Lotho as the co-driver, and Laughing Gecko as the adjunct for personal hilarity.
Note: I'm not positive it was Laughing Gecko but it would not at all surprise me.
We were cruising about in a Plymouth Valiant and a car has never been built which was more guaranteed to ensure you will never have a date. However, it had that beauty of a Slant-Six motor and you (i.e. I) could beat the bejeebers out of it and she didn't blow. I got that vehicle up to 115 mph in Nevada and the particular genius of that thinking was for a hundred miles in any direction there was nothing except sand, sagebrush, scorpions, and rattlesnakes.
Since there was no chance of finding dates, we were driving about innocently as three rogue hippie (i.e. freak) criminals are wont to do and were blowing joints as fast as we could light them.
Somewhere during this time, the moment was interrupted by a blip of a siren accompanied by the flashing lights of a police cruiser.
Immediately the windows were wound down for the basic Cheech & Chong protocol to help at least some of the smoke escape. It wouldn't do much when you're already stopped but it's worth a try.
Back in those days, it wasn't a problem to get out of the car to meet the cop since it wasn't likely he would shoot you. Nowadays you stay in the car ... and the cop will still probably shoot you.
I exited the vehicle and fumbled through an interview with the fellow for who knows what nefarious transgression I had committed. In those times cops had hugely different procedures since he didn't have much interest in what was happening in the car.
In time, the copper decided, yep, time to write me up so he invited me to join him in his cruiser, always a pleasant experience, I'm sure.
The prospect of a detailed description on getting a traffic ticket is maybe painful to you but that's not the point of this missive since the real story was in the Valiant with Lotho and Laughing Gecko.
The cop was still paying no attention to the vehicle and was writing all the details plus marking all the checkboxes on the ticket form. When I was sure he wouldn't catch me, I was glancing to the Valiant to see what was happening since I knew there was no chance there were up to any good.
They were still blowing joints up there while looking back at the police cruiser and me in my ignoble fate. They were laughing like lunatics and smoke poured from the windows.
The Silas was smokin' too because I was thinking not only is this tragic day costing me money but it only takes one look from the cop and all three of us will be going downtown. There is no dramatic punchline since that did not happen but I still remember it well enough to shake my fist in the air and cry out, "You rummy bastards!"
Note: that one is a prize memory. Cracks me up every single time.
Note: I'm not positive it was Laughing Gecko but it would not at all surprise me.
We were cruising about in a Plymouth Valiant and a car has never been built which was more guaranteed to ensure you will never have a date. However, it had that beauty of a Slant-Six motor and you (i.e. I) could beat the bejeebers out of it and she didn't blow. I got that vehicle up to 115 mph in Nevada and the particular genius of that thinking was for a hundred miles in any direction there was nothing except sand, sagebrush, scorpions, and rattlesnakes.
Since there was no chance of finding dates, we were driving about innocently as three rogue hippie (i.e. freak) criminals are wont to do and were blowing joints as fast as we could light them.
Somewhere during this time, the moment was interrupted by a blip of a siren accompanied by the flashing lights of a police cruiser.
Immediately the windows were wound down for the basic Cheech & Chong protocol to help at least some of the smoke escape. It wouldn't do much when you're already stopped but it's worth a try.
Back in those days, it wasn't a problem to get out of the car to meet the cop since it wasn't likely he would shoot you. Nowadays you stay in the car ... and the cop will still probably shoot you.
I exited the vehicle and fumbled through an interview with the fellow for who knows what nefarious transgression I had committed. In those times cops had hugely different procedures since he didn't have much interest in what was happening in the car.
In time, the copper decided, yep, time to write me up so he invited me to join him in his cruiser, always a pleasant experience, I'm sure.
The prospect of a detailed description on getting a traffic ticket is maybe painful to you but that's not the point of this missive since the real story was in the Valiant with Lotho and Laughing Gecko.
The cop was still paying no attention to the vehicle and was writing all the details plus marking all the checkboxes on the ticket form. When I was sure he wouldn't catch me, I was glancing to the Valiant to see what was happening since I knew there was no chance there were up to any good.
They were still blowing joints up there while looking back at the police cruiser and me in my ignoble fate. They were laughing like lunatics and smoke poured from the windows.
The Silas was smokin' too because I was thinking not only is this tragic day costing me money but it only takes one look from the cop and all three of us will be going downtown. There is no dramatic punchline since that did not happen but I still remember it well enough to shake my fist in the air and cry out, "You rummy bastards!"
Note: that one is a prize memory. Cracks me up every single time.
2 comments:
That experience makes me think we weren't as smart as we thought we were. We were lucky though!
I just fixed it that these go through without me seeing them. I took off your admin rights so now they will go up for moderation before posting and I will see them for sure.
We were more clever than intelligent but it was almost always funny ... except while sitting in a police car (larfs).
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