-- Num ---- Username ---- Category ------------- Posted -- Expires --- Pages ---
|  1026 | BMRODGER     | CHATTER              | 11/07/96 | 11/17/96 |     5    |
| Description: just the good old boys....                                      |

now then.
my car, as you may know, is the subject of much lore and saga-telling.  it's
been in several stories, both good and bad, but for the most part, "Civic"
hasn't really done much else other than serve as a literary footnote.
until today.
my car, a 1986 Honda Civic.....outran a police officer intent on pulling me
over and i'm not in jail at the moment.  although that could change if the cop
got my plates.  anyway....
i'm on 42, coming back into Harrisonburg, shooting the shit with my practicum
partner and doing....ohhh...mebbe 25-30mph above the posted speed limit of 55.
of course, as anyone who's driven on 42 knows, that limit is a pretty funny
joke.  i mean, like there's any police ANYWHERE out there at all.
speak of the devil.
his white car flashing in the beams of the few rays of sunlight, the officer
sailed by me in the other direction.  i'd just passed one of the few
intersections on this stretch of road and figured that if the cop was in a
fiesty mood, i could be in trouble.  blind farm animals could have seen that i
was exceeding the speed limit.  after flying by him, i check my rear-view and
begin to slow a little.
"no lights.....no lights.....no lights....no....ahhhhh, SHIT..."
his blue domes now flashing into life, i was faced with several prospects that
didn't sound too good.  either pull over now and take my medicine, keep driving
and pray that he had hit the switch accidentally with a fat kneecap while
reaching for the last old-fashioned glazed, or make like Lead-Foot and see if i
could outrun him.
"buckle up."
"were we speeding?"
"you didn't notice the low flying plane we just passed??"
"oh...no.  are you pulling over."
".....your's car's not KITT or anything, is it?"
"it's not the General Lee and you're planning on jumping a cow field to get
 away from him?"
"you're toast."
"we'll see."
by now, i've got the speedometer up to 95 and am frantically looking for a
place to get off of 42.  the cop's made his turn by this point and is now
accelerating rapidly.  suddenly:  a turn.  right side.  pretty sharp.  no air
brakes.  heeeeeeeeeere we go.....
with the sounds of tortured rubber (no fetish jokes, please) Civic corners off
of 42 and onto a one-lane, non-paved, country road. gravel zings everywhere, my
partner is repeating a mantra of "oh my god oh my god oh my god" and i've got
white knuckles as we fly through quite a few cows.  after an insane cry of "OUT
OF THE WAY, BOSSIE!!   *WHUMP*    MOOOOO????!!!!", i suddenly see a way out of
this.  finding another turn off, i slide Civic into another
"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!"-like turn and gun through overgrowth and potholes.
i pulled a u-turn 10 seconds up the road and raced back.  the cop has gone up
the original road and is disappearing over the top of the field, heading off
back to the farms on the other side.  with a big grin to a frozen seatmate, i
hang a quick right and speed off back to 42 and emerge triumphant onto the
four-lane blacktop.
needless to say, i kept the needle at 80 the rest of the way back (you thought
i'd slow down?  HA!....ok, the thought DID cross my mind) and didn't see a pig
in sight.  life felt pretty damned good for the rest of the day.
on a really rotten note:  i forgot to yell "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE, YOU
FUCKING PIGS!!!!!!!!" as i was eluding Smokey out there.  of course, cc and i
are making the road trip to VA Beach 2morrow, so i could have a convoy on my
ass before we hit Richmond.  if so, i'll remember to do it then while Kodak's
firing out the window at them.  ;)