For those of you who haven't visited the beautiful South, let me warn y'all of something -- small towns love setting up speed traps so that outsiders are forced to shell out some revenue.
What's the definition of an outsider in a small town? Someone who grew up outside of a two-county area seems to be a rule of thumb.
Sadly, I forgot that rule as I was heading up to Batesville, Ark., today to give one of my awe-inspiring presentations (well, it wasn't exactly awe inspiring, but everyone seemed to have a good time and I was able to fill up about 40 minutes on my given topics with little problem). Now, Batesville is about two hours away from my beautiful city of Benton, and there's a little town called Pleasant Plains (population 267) tucked away on U.S. 167 just south of Batesville.
I found out today that there's a very good place in Pleasant Plains where state troopers like to hide and catch unwary speeders. Folks, I didn't notice the trooper until he roared up behind me, turned his lights on and started waving me over to the shoulder. Had I been on my home turf in Saline County rather than driving through Independence County, I would have known where the cops were hidden.
So I got clocked at 70 MPH in a 55 MPH zone and I've got a nice, fat ticket to show for it (the fine will run about $175, I'm told). Damn. I haven't had a speeding ticket since 1991, so perhaps it was just time for me to get one. The upsetting part about this is that my wife got a speeding ticket a few months ago and I teased her without mercy over that.
She's been exacting revenge today and I deserve it. However, I did point out to her that "speedy" is certainly not an appropriate nickname for a woman to give her husband. She told me to "get my mind out of the gutter," but she knows I'm right.
I also regret not using a couple of choice excuses on the State Trooper:
"Well, officer, a bee flew in my window and landed on my accelerator. I was trying to mash him with my foot."
"I was going so fast because I was trying to get away from you. My wife ran off with a state trooper last week and I thought he was trying to return her to me!"
Maybe next time.
By the way, "mash" is one of my favorite words that rural Arkansans tend to use. To pronounce it correctly, you got to throw a "y" in there so it sounds like "maysh." Give it a try. It's fun.
Update -- Bob is upset
Heh, heh, ho, heh and triple-heh. The other day, good old Bob -- proprietor of the painstakingly named Bob's Blog -- left some comments over here and got attacked. Evidently, he thought people were being too mean to him so now he's now sulking about it over on his blog.
Apparently, Bob doesn't want to come over here and play any more. He wants to rant on his own turf where he can control the content and not have to deal with people who disagree with him -- to ridicule posts he doesn't like in a forum where he can shut off all comments challenging his skewed view of the world. That's a shame as his poorly-constructed and personal attacks (all based on laughably false assumptions) in my comments section provided scads of amusement. Come on back, Bob. I thought we were friends now.