Cranky Fibro Girl

Harnessing the healing power of snark

Warning Signs

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The other day my husband and I were in Subway buying dinner. As we were placing our orders a couple of men joined the line, one of whom was wearing a shirt proclaiming, “Three Things You Should Never Say To Cops” (such as, “If I buy the donuts, will you let me off?”)

My husband struck up a conversation with the two men using the shirt as an icebreaker, and mentioned that we have a friend who is entering the police academy later this month.

As soon as he mentioned that this friend is a girl, one of the gentlemen piped up and asked, “Oh, is she hot? I’ll get her to pull me over!” I think he might possibly have had a mistaken perception of his own hotness, as he was sporting a wild and graying beard, a rather large belly, and might possibly have been wearing sandals with knee socks. (Important Side Note: And why is it always those people who think that the “hot people” would want to have anything to do with them?)

Yesterday we went out to dinner with the friend in question and one of her friends, who has been a police officer for the past two years. We recounted our little Subway adventure, which actually turned out to be quite tame compared to their stories (See: People Who Answer The Door Naked, People Who Attempt To Hit On Cops While In The Process Of Being Arrested, People Whose Gay Lover Wakes Them Up From A Sound Sleep By Biting Off And Eating One Of Their Fingers And Part Of Their Ear)

“You know, I’ve never been pulled over by a female police officer,” said my husband, “but if I were I don’t think my first thought would be, ‘Hm…sex’!”

“Well,” replied the veteran police officer, “that‘s how you know they’re creepy.”

The Rest Of The Story

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A few people have wondered about the rest of the “poo” related story from Saturday. And since I can’t think of a compelling topic for a Thursday Thirteen today (“Thirteen Theories On Why My Head Produces So Much Snot When I’m Sick”, “Thirteen Different Ways To Describe The Fiery Sore Throat Of Death”), I thought I’d write about this instead.

The friend who told us this story has recently become friends with a local police officer, and it was he who told her this story.

Apparently this police officer was called to be backup at an arrest. The subject in question was not happy about being arrested, and was also worried about what the police might find should they choose to search all of his stuff. So, in move that probably explains why he was being arrested in the first place, the subject decided to distract the police and came up with the brilliant plan of pooing on their shoes.

This, of course, only angered the police further, ensuring that they went over all of his stuff with a fine-toothed comb, and led to the discovery of many illegal substances.

When the subject was brought before the judge, in addition to all of the other charges that resulted from his possession of illegal substances, the officers tried to get him charged with aggravated assault, on account of the whole poo-ing thing. The judge would not give them that, since “poo is not a deadly weapon.” But he did give them felony battery because, as we would all most certainly agree, “that is just really gross.”

“And now,” to quote Paul Harvey, “you know the rest of the story.”

The Best Things I Heard This Weekend

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This weekend we had dinner with one of The Gamers, and somehow we got on the subject of next-door neighbors. I told her about Nearly Naked Smoker and she said, “When I was in high school our next door neighbor would come outside in his underwear to get the paper and yell at our school bus as it came down the street.”

“You would get arrested for doing that these days,” replied my husband.

“You can get arrested for delivering papers naked,” said our friend. “Ask my dad how he knows about that.”

(Important Side Note: Apparently, her dad is in charge of hiring people to deliver the newspaper.)

This particular friend has worked A Lot of retail jobs, and occasionally she pulls out a retail story to entertain us. The story she told us this weekend involved a friend of hers who was working in an electronics store one day when an elderly gentleman approached her and said, “Can I tell you something?”

“Um, does it have anything to do with this cell phone, sir?”

“No. I need to tell you that I’m a demon from hell. I see that you have red hair, so you must be a witch. You should come back to hell with me, and we could make it.”

“Uh, what about your wife?” (who was standing right there)

“She’s not one of us.”