It was autumn in Western Washington thereabouts Fort Lewis, Washington. I was sleeping soundly when I was suddenly awakened by the ringing of the telephone. The new area support command commander had decided to test his alert recall roster. From my point of view, that sucker worked just fine. But I was not exactly thrilled about the idea of getting up at 0230 hours to roll into work for an alert. Marvelous. Simply marvelous. Muster formation was to be held at 0400 hours. I was instructed to bring my A-bag. For you civilians, an A-bag is a rucksack. Since I didn’t have time for coffee, I decided to wake myself up with music. As a result, I chose to drive to work in my Fiat spider 2000. I was out the door and running, but I was still cutting it close. I figured I would have just enough time to make it in time for the Muster formation. The traffic light gods were showing favor with me because I basically caught every green light. Times were good. When I got to the back gate of Fort Lewis, I dimmed my lights and showed my ID card to the MP at the gate. Then I proceeded on to post. Things were looking good. I got to group headquarters, found a parking spot, collected my A-bag, and walked toward the formation area. During formation, we were informed that an annual 100 percent drug urinalysis would be performed. Outstanding in the rain! What a wonderful idea. I had nothing better to do today anyway. I just love drug tests, don’t you? Drug tests are a great way for somebody to make you feel totally insecure while they stand and watch you go to the bathroom. You gotta love that concept. What a fantastic concept. I can’t think of a better way to demean a person’s human dignity than to watch them piss in a cup. And if you get an obnoxious Proctor, that sorry sonofabitch stands right over the top of you and stares right at your package while you’re going. It’s enough to give anybody the creeps or the heebie-jeebies. Yeah. On this particular date, I drew one of those types of individuals. Swell. The highlight of my year. A dear diary moment. So, I had to knock this out as quick as I could. I felt that the less time that I could devote to the creep show the better off I would be. As soon as I finished the drug test, I was released to go get breakfast. I decided to take my A-bag home and eat there. On the way home, a cop showed up out of nowhere and pulled me over. I’m not sure what he pulled me over for. The local yokel was a short, kind of pudgy fellow in a County Sheriff’s uniform. He walked with a slow shuffling gait and kind of dragged his feet. I thought, ‘Jesus H Christ, this little fat sonofabitch is going to take half the day to get to my car. For pity’s sake, I wish that he would pull the corncob out of his ass.’ When the Sheriff’s deputy got to my car, he mumbled, “I need to see your driver’s license and vehicle registration.” I felt in my pants for my wallet and remembered that I had left my wallet locked in my desk while I went to do the urinalysis and I said under my breath, “Shit! God dammit. I’m sorry officer. I don’t have my wallet with me because I had a urinalysis at Fort Lewis this morning, and I left my wallet locked up in my desk. May I ask why you stopped me?” “It seemed to me that you took that last curve back there a little too fast.” “Excuse me officer, did you clock me on the radar? Cuz I was doing less than the posted speed limit.” “No. But I used my discretion.” “Excuse me officer, there’s no sign that says police officers can use their discretion to cite individuals for speeding. I think you’ve had too many donuts for breakfast, and the sugar is affecting your judgment. Exactly how many donuts have you eaten this morning? I’m willing to bet $20 that you had at least a half dozen donuts.” “You’re on, sonny. I’ll have you know; I only ate two donuts this morning.” “Can you prove that?” “Sure. As a matter of fact, I have the receipt right there in my cruiser. Hey…” “Gotcha.” “Why, you smart ass punk. I’m going to cite you for failure to produce proper documents. That is a fix-it ticket. That requires a mandatory court appearance.” “No problem Mister Donut, I mean officer.” “One more crack from you sonny, and I’m going to run you downtown.” “Promises, promises. Do you have donuts downtown?” “What is with you and this constant harassment about donuts?” “Well officer, have you looked in a mirror lately? I mean, you walk slower than my turtle, and my turtle is dead. You’re damn near as big around as your car. And if you had a red suit on, people would call you Sandy Claws. It’s a wonder you still have buttons on your shirt because they’re stretched so tight.” “Here’s your ticket kid. See you in court.” “Fantastic. Thank you Mister Donut, I mean officer.” Two weeks later, I had to appear in court with my fix-it ticket. I produced my license and registration and explained to the judge what had happened. The judge dismissed the case due to the extenuating circumstances surrounding the alert and the hundred percent urinalysis test. As a result, I avoided another citation of futility written by a Sheriff’s deputy named Mister Donut.
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