On 4/3/2012 4:30 AM, Bob Whitmire wrote:
> Obviously a man with a sense of humor. Did not see the need to alert the
> chase car. Either that or he'd been taking a whiz and decided not to to the
> jump-in-the-car and come to get you thing.
They're not all bad, you know.
Last year, our New England schedule meant arriving in Boston at 6:30 in the
evening and driving straight to Mt. Desert.
By the time we had our car and were on our way, it was probably 7:30-45. By the
time we were about half way to Portland,
it started raining. The nice Hertz lady had given us a very low mileage car, as
we were going to have it for a month.
Unfortunately, their computer records had left out a zero in the mileage. Not a
problem - except the windshield wipers
were in awful shape. They made a horrible sound as they swept across, smearing
more than clearing.
A visit to the Hertz counter at Portland Jetport revealed that they had no way
to help us directly, but would pay for
new wipers, if we got them. This led to finding an open Walmart in the rainy
dark, one effort to mount wipers in the
rainy parking lot, a return, 'cause the printed guide was misleading as they
didn't fit, another purchase, and -
finally, after some dodgy moments - quiet, functional wipers! (Hertz did
without question deduct the outrageous cost of
wipers for that car from our bill right on the spot as we dropped it off.)
With working wipers, the rest of the trip was fine, there was less and less
traffic as we went North and it got later.
Still, I did want to get to the warm, dry house and bed awaiting us. So after
leaving the Pike, there we were, driving
along Rte. 32, a nice 2-lane with no traffic at all, and rather modest speed
limits. Flying along comfortably, but well
above the speed limit, we started down a hill with a small retail strip at the
bottom. Almost immediately, the light bar
on top of an otherwise invisible car flashed a couple of times. Oh dear, it's
going to be even longer, and more
expensive than before ... But no, I slowed down immediately, drove past the
still invisible police car and on to our
destination. The light flashes had been like the wagged finger, a warning to
slow down. Got in after 2, but only between
12 and 1:00, our body time.
Several years earlier, we were flying, well not exactly, but moving briskly,
along Hwy 120 through the Sierra foothills,
on our way to Yosemite. Big, broad, nicely graded/banked 2-lane. Beautiful,
sunny day, top down, wind in hair, tunes on
the stereo, afternoon, midweek, no traffic ... Except a CHP car going the other
way. I let off the gas, but didn't hit
the brakes - no point admitting it. (CHP can't use radar to enforce the state
vehicle code.)
Sure enough, he slowed, turned and pulled me over. A very nice young man, he
asked why I hadn't slowed down as soon as I
saw him (Would he then have just gone on?). I said something like I hadn't
wanted to do anything sudden. He asked for
license, registration and insurance. License was easy. But, as I explained to
him as I started rooting about in the boot
:-) , shortly after I bought the car, it had been broken into and the glove box
ransacked. Since then, I have kept the
papers in the tool bag in the trunk, now under all our luggage (and camera
gear).
I suppose he got bored waiting for me to find what I obviously would find, and
had already decided to cut us a break
(never underestimate the power of treating everybody like real people). Also,
of course, he already knew from his
computer that reg and ins were up to date before he even got out of his car.
He said I could quit unpacking and that I should go forth and sin no more.
Folks is Folks Moose
--
What if the Hokey Pokey *IS* what it's all about?
--
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