Tuesday, May 31, 2005

My husband thinks he's funny

My Hubs. He thinks he's a comedian. No seriously. He has a dry sense of humor. It kills me when he tries to make a snappy comment. But I guess other people appreciate it.

We were going nicely on the freeway when a bronze Grand Prix passed us. The Hubs decided to pace that driver. Not long after he got behind the Grand Prix.

Hubs: Shoot

Me: What?

Hubs: Okay. It's okay. That cop isjust getting on the freeway.

The Hubs gets over to the right lane (it's a 2-laner) and slows down a little. The Grand Prix also gets to the right ahead of us. The Hubs drives along nervously. I can tell when the highway patrolman gets closer because the Hubs eyes dart to the mirrors checking. I just look ahead.

The patrolman gets even with the Hubs. The Hubs looks over at him. The patrolman points to the side of the road. Yes! The Hubs got snagged! Then the patrolman turns on his lights and goes after the Grand Prix. Interestingly enough, the Grand Prix starts to get to the side of the road not 2 seconds after the lights are turned on. I mean, the patrolcar wasn't even CLOSE to the Grand Prix.

So there we are at the side of the road. The Grand Prix in front. The patrolcar in the middle. We are at the rear. The patrolman gets the info from the Grand Prix first. Then the patrolman walks back to us. We open my window and hand over his license, registration, and insurance cards.

Officer: Sir, do you know how fast you were going?

Hubs: No. I don't. I was keeping pace with that girl in front of me.

Officer: Well sir. The guy in front of you was clocked at 86 mph.

Hubs: Oh. Okay.

The patrolman walks back to his car. The driver of the Grand Prix stands in the dirt next to the passenger door of the patrolcar. The patrolman writes up whatever and chats with the driver. It takes more than 10 minutes before they are done. The patrolman then walks back to us and asks my husband to come up to the patrolcar. The patrolman writes up whatever and chats with my husband. It takes another 5 minutes before my Hubs is back in the car.


Me: What's up honey?

Hubs: I only got a warning.

Me: A warning?

Hubs: Yup. A warning. The officer asked me again if I knew what speed I was going. I told him again that I didnt' know. That I was keeping pace with the girl in the Grand Prix.

Me: Yeah...

Hubs: Then the officer says to me. 'You realize sir that the driver was a guy' And I said 'Well, it looked like a chick to me!' The officer cracked up!

You see...the driver had long blonde shaggy hair (obviously a dye job). My husband thought the driver was a girl. The officer was highly amused by my husband's observation. And only gave him a warning. Dry humor. Who would think that it would get us out of having some higher insurance?

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