Many years ago I lived in a small town. I worked for a Chevrolet dealer. I loved to drive fast, very fast. I had married a lady that liked to drive faster. We were a perfect match. So this is how his story starts.
I parked out front and worked in the parts department. Waiting at the counter was a highway patrolman. We said our “Good Morning” and he showed me a pad with a name on it. “Is this your name?” “Yup,” I said, “looks like it.” “And you drive a red Pontiac convertible?” “I have a maroon Pontiac convertible.” “Red, maroon, all the same,” he yelled. I had a feeling this was going to be a bad day. He looked outside and said, “Is that the car?” “It’s a car.” “You a wise guy?” he said.
“Were you driving on I-10 at one o’clock this morning?” “Nope, I was sleeping.” “Could someone have been using that car at one this morning?” “Don’t know, sleeping.”
He walked back and forth. “I’ll be back,” he said. I thought to myself, “I can’t wait.”
I worked all day. Around three the chief of police came in. “Hi Jim.” “Hi Fred” “Did a highway patrol officer come see you today?” “Yes.” “Well, the officer is embarrassed because they couldn’t catch the car that they had clocked at over 100 miles per hour.” “Don’t know; I was sleeping.”
He smiled and walked out.