Sunday

I sat down this morning to read the newspaper and glanced outside to get a quick look at the thermometer: 75o...little wind...bright and sunny. After the 115o I saw on that thing a couple days ago...well, let's just say I got a weird little thrill, read the comics like a excited 8 year old, and just about squealed with joy when I headed out into the garage with scooter key in hand.

Not too hot to ride. Not too windy. Just perfect.

I zoomed around town. I zipped up and down streets. I bumbled along at 20 mph and then sped up to 60. I enjoyed the wind rushing through the mesh of my jacket until I realized I had not eaten breakfast, and it was past when I usually ate lunch.

So I stopped at McDonald's. Nutrition.

But...but...when I left the Golden Arches (having gobbled down a small burger and small fries way too quickly, I'm not even sure I took the time to taste anything) there was a cop standing there looking at my scooter.

WTF did I do? Was he waiting to nab me because he'd clocked me doing 50 down that 45 mph road? I mena, I did, but my speedometer reads kmph and I get confused, dangit!) Did I not stop long enough before turning right on red? What did I do???

Ya know, once a cop spots you, you just can't turn around and run back inside and go hide in the ladies room...

So I sucked it up and approached. I was ready to sprout forth with all kinds of intelligent things to say, like "ummm," and "uhhhh..."

He looked at me and said, "Nice wheels. I've only seen a couple of these around."

Relief.

But then he asked, "What happened to your sport bike?"

Oh holy...I have been pegged. At least one cop around here knows me by my bright bright bright neon yellow jacket. I can't tell them apart when they're at the side of the road with their radar detectors, or when they're putting along on their shiny Harley Road Kings...but one of them made the leap of logic that there isn't more than one rider with a blinding jacket*, white helmet, and a bright red "Support a Writer, Buy A Book" license frame.

I can never speed in this town again...

* Spouse Thingy has the same jacket but different helmet. And he doesn't tend to take meandering rides around town. But there's a possibility that if I annoy said cop, at some point he'll get blamed for it. That's comforting...

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