Earlier this week, I was sitting in one of my usual spots enjoying a nice mild August day. I looked to my right and saw a black Mitsubishi headed my way. Looked like it was going a wee bit faster than the 35 MPH it should have been going. And, to be fair, I heard the stereo about the time I saw the car.
Time to make a new acquaintance. (I’ve given up on calling them friends. For some reason, I just don’t think it was accurate. I’m nothing if not accurate.)
As I pulled in behind the Mitsubishi at a red signal light, I radioed the stop in, but have yet to light it up. I saw the driver stick his hand out and flick his cigarette. Ah, yes, the perennial favorite. The light turned green and I lit the car up. It yielded without fanfare (just once, some fanfare would be cool…can’t you people whip up some fucking ticker tape?). The contact went a little something like this…
MC: Afternoon. You know why I stopped you?
Ignorant Teenage Pizza Delivery Guy: Uh, no.
MC: Three things, actually. One, do you know what the speed limit is on this street?
ITPDG (I gotta work on shortening names up, that’s a bitch to type): No.
MC: It’s 35. Do you know how fast you were going?
ITPDG: Not really.
MC: Indeed. Second, your stereo was too loud. If I can hear it from more than 50′ away, it’s too loud.
MC: No worries. Lastly, what’s with dropping your cigarette ash? What happens when that lit ash blows into this nice man’s front yard and starts a fire that burns down his house?
ITPDG: Oh, man, I didn’t realize that.
MC: Okay. I need your license, blah, blah, blah.
As I was writing the ticket for speed, I got to his date of birth. He’s 17. What’s the legal age for having tobacco products? 18. D’oh!
MC (having returned to the car): Okay. This is a citation for speed and for possession of tobacco (a misdemeanor…but still heard in the same department as traffic court).
ITPDG: I don’t even smoke! Some guys at work gave them to me.
MC: Well, those guys aren’t your friends. Besides, don’t you know those things will kill you?
ITPDG (whilst signing): Can I ask you a question?
ITPDG: This may sound weird, but, um, my boss, the owner of Speedy Pizza told us we could drive as fast as we want and no cops would stop us.
No, no you read that right. “We could drive as fast as we want and no cop would stop us.”
I burst out laughing. Seriously.
MC: I’m sorry, man. I’m not laughing at you, but that’s funny. Do you think maybe he’s trying to make a buck by making sure his pizzas get delivered on time?
ITPDG: Yeah, I guess so. Do you think maybe you could stop by and tell him that’s not true?
MC: Tell you what, why don’t you pass along the message for me.
It’s not like the kid was delivering coffee and donuts! No wait, then every cop would be stopping him. (Insert rimshot and cymbal crash) I’m not above bringing back old school cop schtick, people.