Teenaged Johnnie Cochran

I have always been amazed at the teenager’s capacity to know it all.  I know this because, having been a teenager, I can attest to the veracity of that statement.  Sadly, something happens between one’s late teens and early 20’s.  We hit college and begin to figure out that life is no joke and it’ll kick you square in the kumquats.

Or maybe it’s all the alcohol and we forget all the shit we knew.

At any rate, I do so love being reminded of my adult ignorance by someone who was a zygote when I knew everything.

Little bastards.

Every so often I stop a mini-Einstein wearing their jeans around their thighs.  By the way, I assume the bagginess in their knickers is directly proportional to their genius.  Or they’re reverse coolots.

*Who else do you read that works in kumquats and coolots in the same post?!?

Either way, on occasion, they attempt to out-Legal-Eagle me and humor ensues.

MC: Do you know why I stopped you?

Johnnie: I don’t think I was doing anything wrong.

MC: Fair enough.  Unfortunately, I stopped you for speeding.  Do you know how fast you were going or what the speed limit is?radar R2

Johnnie: I wasn’t speeding.

MC: Interesting how that didn’t answer either of my questions.

Johnnie: Can I see the radar?

MC: I don’t use a radar.  I use a lidar.

Johnnie: Well, I heard you have to show it to me.

MC: Johnnie, you’re adorable.

Johnnie: I don’t have to sign anything until I see the radar.

MC: Johnnie, I believe I told you I don’t use a radar.

Johnnie: Whatever, you have to show me.

MC: Seriously, Johnnie, I want to hug you, you’re so darn adorable.  Maybe I’ll buss your cheeks.

Johnnie: I’m going to call my Uncle.  He’s a lawyer.

MC: That right?  What kind?

Johnnie: What kind of what?

MC: Lawyer, Johnnie.  Maybe let those pants out a bit, get that brain power flowin’ again.

Johnnie: He went to law school.

MC: Good for him!  Follow me here, though, Johnnie.  What. Kind. Of. Law. Does. He. Practice?

Johnnie: I think he’s in real estate.

MC: Johnnie, if I had all the live long day, I’d be happy to chat your uncle up about refinancing my mortgage that’s upside down.  Maybe he could get me qualified for the HARP program even though my mortgage isn’t held by Fannie or Freddie.  You think he could hook me up there, John?

Johnnie: Huh?

MC: Nevermind, Johnnie.  The point is your uncle isn’t a criminal attorney and I’m gonna guess the only exposure to the vehicle code he’s had is when he took his driving exam.  So, no, Johnnie, I’m not gonna be talking with your uncle today.

Johnnie: But, I heard you have to show me the radar.

MC: Lidar, Johnnie.  Say, “Lidar.”

Johnnie: Lidar.

MC: Good on ya, Johnnie.  What’s more, I don’t know where you “heard” I have to show you my lidar because I don’t.  Most of the time, I’m happy to show it, if the attitude is appropriate, but there is no legal requirement that mandates that I show you my lidar.

Johnnie: Really?

MC: Hell if I know, Johnnie.  I make all this up as I go.

Okay, I’ve never really said that last bit, but it’s wicked tempting.  The other amusing part is that I’ve (probably unfairly, but it’s fun) characterized this kind of person as a teenager.  Not always true.  From time to time, I get a similar opinion from adults as well.

Stupid knows no generational boundaries.

Please note: I reserve the right to delete comments that are offensive or off-topic. Snark is encouraged. Being a prat is not.

3 thoughts on “Teenaged Johnnie Cochran

  1. Johnnie: Here my uncle on my flip.

    MC obliges and takes the cell from Johnnie.

    MC: Hello?
    MC: That’s correct.
    MC: Yes.
    MC: Yes, now that you mention it.
    MC: I can do that.
    MC: No, I don’t mind at all.
    MC: Thank you. Have a nice day!

    MC closes the flip and hands it back to Johnnie.
    That was your Uncle Dewey, the attorney.
    Johnnie: What he say?

    MC: Well, ‘he say’ that you’re an idiot and he doesn’t want you calling him anymore until you’ve gotten your fat a** straightened out. He also says that there’s a bag of weed in your glove compartment, a half empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose under the passenger seat and half a blunt in the ashtray. He asked me if I’d be so good as to bust you for possession and let you spend a little time in the county lock up. Just enough time to let you think about what you’ve done to get there.

    Johnnie: Huh, you be shittin’ me, homes.

    MC: Please step out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them.

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