Well, it was another day at Fort Lewis, and it was time to head for work. I jumped in my ride of choice, my Fiat Spider, and headed for work. I was the commander of a maintenance detachment at Fort Lewis, Washington, and my First Sergeant, my Operations Sergeant and I took turns bringing in donuts and pastries for the morning coffee break. It was my turn to pick up the pastries, and I opted to get donuts. Whenever I picked up donuts, I always bought an extra dozen or two just in case. What was that? Just in case of what? Somebody was paying attention. You see, certain cars are natural born cop catchers. They can’t help it. They come from the factory with a built-in design feature geared specifically for catching cops. I ain’t lying. If you don’t believe me, just ask me. And it’s a known fact that cops love donuts. Cops love donuts like bears love honey. How do I know that bears love honey? Come on! Haven’t you ever watched Winnie the Pooh? Winnie the Pooh is a bear. Winnie the Pooh loves honey. Therefore, bears love honey. That right there was a perfectly constructed logical argument. Where was I? Oh yeah. I was heading to work. I took my normal route through Spanaway past the back gate of McChord, and in through the back gate of Fort Lewis by the logistics center headed toward Madigan Army Medical Center. When I got over to main post, I slowed down and put the Fiat into music-controlled overdrive. What is music-controlled overdrive? Well, I had this stereo system mounted in the Fiat that kicked out some serious jams. The vibrations from that stereo system alone were enough to produce momentum once the vehicle was already in motion. Then, all I had to do was let the motion of the car do the rest. That was music-controlled overdrive. That particular morning, I came up behind some ‘cruits (recruits) from the in-processing company who were marching to their first processing station for the day. When they heard my music thumping bass from the sub-woofers, they started marching in step with the rhythm of my music. Of course, they also started bobbing and weaving and doing a little jive step. I don’t think the NCOIC in charge of the formation appreciated that very much. But I didn’t have time to worry about that. Because the familiar site of a lit up bubblegum machine as bright as a Christmas tree shined in my rearview mirror, and that could only mean one thing. The donut patrol had smelled my donuts. Damn those bastard’s had good noses. How did they know what my cargo was just like that? It was uncanny. But they always knew when I had unprotected donuts aboard. When the MP (military police) approached my Fiat, I looked up and recognized a familiar face. The Sergeant approaching my car lived next door to my First Sergeant in the on post housing. Here’s a little back story on this particular MP. Every time my First Sergeant and I went over to the minimart after work and had a few brewskis, this particular MP always invited himself to help us drink our beer. He never helped us pay for the beer. Oh no. He couldn’t be bothered with that. But he sure knew how to drink the damn shit, though. Yes Sir. He could drink like a fish. A really big fish. But he never paid for a beer at all. He sure did like that OP beer. What is OP beer? Well it’s other people’s beer. That’s the only kind he liked. Other people’s beer. I knew that he knew who I was. No surprise there. He greeted me with, “Hey, Sir, I know you. You’re the commander of my neighbor’s unit.” No shit. Take one. I replied, “You figured that out all by yourself, did you? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Cuz I know you didn’t smell the donuts all by your lonesome. And I don’t see a K-9 unit.” “You see, you were disturbing the peace. You were making too much noise with your music.” “The soldiers from the ‘cruit station seemed to like the music just fine.” “Wait, are those donuts on the seat of your car?” “Damn! Your powers of observation astound me. I know you’re hearing doesn’t work worth a shit. And now, I’ve confirmed that your sense of smell doesn’t work worth shit either. Cuz you couldn’t have smelled the donuts. And not two minutes ago, I mentioned the donuts. So, your detective skills ain’t worth shit. Let me ask you something, Sarge? How in the hell did you make Sarge?” “I think I’m going to have to write a ticket for disturbing the peace.” “While you’re doing that, Sarge, could you go ahead and write yourself up?” “For what?” “While you were busy harassing me, I think you forgot to put your car in park or something. Cuz it just bashed into a pole. Oops.” “What?” “Look. I don’t think you’ve had enough donuts to eat today. Did you forget to stop at the shopette?” “Man, can you wait here, Sir? I have to go check my car. I’ll be right back.” “I’m not to wait for you to write me a ticket.” “We’ll talk about that when I get back.” When the MP Sergeant came back, he said, “Thank goodness. My car didn’t suffer any damage.” “No. But what will happen when I tell everybody about what you did here today? Your car didn’t suffer any damage, but you sure will. Gee, that’s too bad. Perhaps, we can work something out.” “That’s blackmail, Sir. You’re despicable.” “Hey. A few minutes ago, you were going to give me a bullshit ticket because you didn’t like my music. Now, we’re even.” “Not exactly even, Sir. I’m still kinda hungry, and you do have all of those donuts.” “Would you like a few donuts?” “Yes please.” “Would they make you happy enough to leave me alone so that I can go to work?” “Yes, they would.” As a result, donuts paid my fine before I even got the ticket, and I avoided another exercise in futility.
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