It was turning out to be a spectacular summer at Fort Lewis. And the Fiat spider 2000 had been running mighty fine around town and on local trips. It was time to take it on a long road trip. We decided to head out to Aberdeen Washington and Grayland Beach State Park. The plan was to take Interstate 5 down to Olympia, and then take Highway Eight out to Aberdeen. Once in Aberdeen, we were going to take Route 105 out to Grayland Beach State Park. As I said, that was the plan. Somehow, cops always have a way of spoiling even the best of plans. And this was no exception. Of course, my lead foot and the turbocharger on the Fiat may have had something to do with that as well. But I seriously doubt it. It is my firm belief that cops deliberately seek out cars such as my Fiat just so that they can harass us. You see, they try their darnedest to fill their ticket quota as fast as possible so that they can spend more time in their favorite donut shop. At least, that’s my theory and I’m sticking with it. We had been on Highway Eight for about 10 minutes when I noticed a highway patrolman parked on the other side of the highway. I thought, “It is really strange for a patrol car to be parked along the highway like that.” The patrol car was in plain sight in both directions, so it was obvious that he wasn’t trolling for customers. Normally when the Highway Patrol is trolling for customers, the officer doing the trolling usually does so from a place of seclusion. When I passed the patrolman, I looked down at my speedometer and noticed that I was not exceeding the speed limit. I really had no reason to speed that day because we left relatively early, and we had all day to get there. Without fail, the Highway Patrolman immediately turned on his lights, flipped a U-turn on the highway, and proceeded in my direction after I passed him. I didn’t bother to slow down because I was doing nothing wrong. When the patrol car came up behind me, the officer sounded his siren and flashed his headlights signaling me to pull over. So, I complied. Then, the donut show curtain went up. We sat there along the highway for no less than 15 minutes while the patrol officer struggled to get out of the car. The Three Stooges could not have performed his ritual better. He weighed at least 350 pounds if he weighed an ounce. But he only stood about 5 foot four. As God is my witness, his primary diet had to consist mainly of donuts. I was guessing Dunkin’ Donuts. I was about to test that theory. Joe patrolman waddled up to my car like a penguin or a duck, I’m not sure which. That would have been a Kodak moment, but I didn’t have a camera. The patrolman had only taken 20 or 30 steps from his car to mine, but he was huffing and puffing like a steam locomotive. Concerned, I asked him, “Excuse me officer, are you alright? Cuz you don’t sound alright. And you don’t look alright. In fact, you look like you’re about to have a heart attack. I think it’s all those damn donuts you are eating. By the way, I’m curious, what brand of donuts do you eat?” The patrolman retorted, “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I prefer Dunkin’ Donuts. Hey?!?” “Yeah. That’s exactly what the hell I thought.” “I’ll be the one asking the questions here. Let’s see your driver’s license and registration.” “Excuse me officer, now that we’ve established what you really do for a living. Do you mind telling me exactly what the charge is?” “You’ll find out in due time.” “Well, I know for a fact that I wasn’t speeding. In fact, I believe you were over there parked along the side of the highway sound asleep or at least dozing off when I went by. You just couldn’t let me go without harassing me because my car is on some unwritten list of cars that you patrolmen harass. Isn’t that true?” “That is absolutely false.” “Let’s see, what day is today? The 27th. Hmmm. I believe you decided to harass me because you’re behind on your ticket quota for the month. Isn’t that true officer?” “That’s a bald-faced lie.” “I have a question. Could you tell me what the difference is between a bald-faced lie and a normal lie? See, I don’t think there is a difference. I think a lie is a lie. What do you think?” “What in the hell are you babbling about?” “Well, you are the one that brought it up. You know. The thing about the bald-faced lie. So, I want to know what the difference is between a bald-faced lie and a normal lie. And another thing. You haven’t told me what type of donuts you like. Well, what type of donuts do you like?” “I like several different kinds, not that that has anything to do with this conversation. And what is your fixation on donuts?” “Well, officer, have you looked in a mirror lately? Have you looked at your profile in a mirror lately? If not, you should. That would tell you exactly why I have the fixation on donuts.” “You know you weren’t speeding, don’t you? That’s why you’re giving me such a hard time, isn’t it?” “Yeah. Pretty much. And if you take this circus sideshow to court, cuz you know I will, I’m going to make you look like an idiot.” “Yeah. I’m starting to get that feeling.” “Don’t worry officer. There’ll be plenty of idiots coming down the highway at 80 or 90 miles an hour that you can legitimately write up. Then, you can go and grab your favorite Dunkin’ Donuts. Except, just don’t grab too many. What do you say?” “Yeah. Here are your driver’s license and registration. Go on and get the heck out of here.” So, we pulled out into traffic and proceeded on to Aberdeen without another exercise in futility.
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