I don’t look so good anymore

I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles’ the other day to get my new and improved drivers license.  It didn’t go very well.  I went in the morning, prior to my customary cup of Starbucks coffee, so my eyes weren’t “open” wide enough for the first two photos that they took of me, then on the third the gal just took it after saying “really try to keep your eyes open this time.” which I did and the photo makes me look like a psychopath.  A nice looking, friendly…psychopath.  This could work to my advantage if I ever axe murder anyone and get pulled over for it.  But for the most part…it’s just a bad photo of me.  The following three-person conversation could easily ensue if I were pulled over after work some night.

Cop…(as he’s standing at my truck window) Okay…I’ll need to see your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance. 

Me…here you go.

Cop…what are you doing on this side of town WHAT THE HELL?!  WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH THE FUNNY PHOTO ON YOUR DRIVERS LICENSE PAL?!

Me…Oh, that.  It’s a funny story officer.  You see I was down at the DMV..

Cop…No no.  I got a sergeant that loves to hear funny stories.  You hold on wiseass.  Hey Sarge, com’ mer for a minute!

Sarge…What seems to be the problem officer? 

Cop…It seems Mister Ripley here likes to make funny faces down at the DMV.

Sarge…Well I’ll be the judge of that officer, (starting to look at my drivers license) let me see the driver’s licen…OKAY SIR JUST STEP OUT OF YOUR VEHICLE AND KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE TRUCK WHILE WE ALL ENJOY LOOKING AT YOUR BUG-EYED DRIVER’S LICENSE PHOTO!

Me…Ma’am…it’s just a simple misunderstanding, you see I hadn’t had any coffee yet that morning and…

Sarge….Yeah yeah yeah…been there, heard that sorry old story before buster.  You comedians aren’t so funny when you tie up two police officers with your stupid looking funny-faced drivers license.

Me…but Sarge, I haven’t tied up anyone…yet. 

Sarge…That’s SARGEANT JONES TO YOU! 

Me…Sorry boss…but when you set me up like that I just gotta knock ‘em down.

Sarge…You’re no Johnny Carson and I ain’t Ed McMahon so shut yer pie hole  mister! 

Me…Ooooo…you’re frisking me.  Thank you and I mean that.  It’s a weeknight and I don’t usually see any petting until Saturdays.

Sarge…Oh, very nice…let me get my latex gloves. 

Me…Don’t bother, really…your flashlight jabbed into the middle of my lower back just took four years off my life.  Now if you could just scratch between my shoulder blades, that would be awesome! 

Sarge…Shaddup you!

Me….Why was I even pulled over?

Sarge…You’re drivin’ this old pick up truck in a high drug dealin’ neighborhood at night, as if you didn’t know, and your license plate light is burned out.

Me…I work retail.  I just closed the store at 10, and as you can clearly see, Sergeant, I have a flashlight duct taped to my rear bumper for “license plate illumination.”

Sarge…It’s 10:45 now, ya cokehead, what have ya been doin’ for 45 minutes? Readin’ the Bible?

Me…doing paperwork.  I just left the store, go ahead and search my truck. 

Cop…Nuthin’ but empty Starbucks coffee cups in there Sarge.

Sarge…Which store do you work at?

Me…The drug store on the corner of Walnut & 5th Street.

Sarge…Oooooo…I get those delicious little graham cracker cookies covered in chocolate fudge and peanut butter there.  I love those rascals!! 

Me…I’m sure that this is all just a simple misunderstanding Sergeant.  I was just driving home and…

Sarge…(interrupting) Say…do you have any of those little cookies still in the store?

Me…I…suppose.  The store is locked up tight with all the alarms set…

Sarge…How about I over look this goofy photo of yours this one time and you go to the store and let me buy a couplea boxes of those forbidden peanut butter fudgie grahams?

Me…Ah…okay…will you lead…with your siren and red lights flashing? 

Sarge…Hell yeah, that’s the way ol’ Sergeant Blanche rolls baby.

Me…Fine then.  Can I have my driver’s license back?

Sarge…After I get the cookies.

Me…. Sergeant?

Sarge…yeah?

Me…Will you take off the latex gloves before we leave for the store, please?

Sarge…Yeah.  Say…I’m hungry; do you guys sell hot dogs?

Me…yeah…but they’re not cooked.

Sarge…no problem…I’ll just cook ‘em with my taser.

Me…that works?!

Sarge…best hot dog you’ll ever have.

Me…I’m sorry about smarting off to you Sergeant Blanche.

Sarge…Oh don’t worry about it kid.  The old Sarge has broken a lot of hearts along her 20 plus years on the force, plus cracked a few ribs.

Me…sure…sure…

Sarge…Men can’t help but fall for a gal in uniform, the thin blue line, forbidden love… 

Me…the handcuffs, the nightstick. 

Sarge…Hey!  Some guys like the good cop bad cop old Sergeant Blanche brings on…they can’t help themselves. 

Me…especially if they’re handcuffed, aye Sarge? 

Sarge…yeah, well maybe…anyways my stomach’s growling for hot dogs and peanut butter fudgie grahams.  Let’s ride, cowboy! 

Me…sure thing Sarge…but first give me your handcuffs, for my protection.

So for all you kids out there reading this…don’t go to the Department of Motor Vehicles all sleepy eyed and such or you’ll have to keep a couplea boxes of Deluxe Peanut Butter Fudgie Grahams with you for ol’ Sergeant Blanche…the lady cop with the gentlest of touches.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “I don’t look so good anymore

    • That’s a heck of a nice deal that your friend has set up on their website, though I live on the prairie-land called “Iowa”…where the people are nice, the land is fertile and the DMV takes horrible DL’s photos (it’s not a bad trade off really). So the California website thing doesn’t work for me…unless I move west several thousand miles.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s