Radar Love

Police officers often hear people say the darndest things, and speeders are no exception to the rule. In fact, they’re often the most creative when spouting off excuses for driving too fast. Here are just a few of the comments made to me during my days working patrol and traffic assignments.

1. “Hey, pal. I’m a police officer. Want to see my shield?”

2. “I was speeding because I really needed to pee. Not anymore, though. Now my seat’s wet and it’s your fault.”

3. “105 in a 55? You’re kidding, right? What about the car that passed me?”

4. “Maybe if I take off my sunglasses you’ll recognize me. I’m pretty big around Nashville.”

5. “Do you know who I am?”

6. “There’s a place for people like you. It’s called hell.”

7. “You’re stopping me for going a little over the speed limit? That’s it? You don’t want to search my car for drugs, or anything? Not that I have any, mind you.”

8. “How many of you little piggies does it take to eat a box of doughnuts?”

9. “Isn’t there something we could do to make this like it never happened?”

10. “I’m not signing this thing. Wait, what happens if I don’t sign. Arrest? So I sign there, right?”

11. “My uncle is the county sheriff in ****, Texas. You can’t give me a ticket. Haven’t you rednecks ever heard of professional courtesy?”

12. “I’m in a hurry because the ship will not wait for me. They have to get back to their planet before morning.”

13. You’re pissing me off.”

Hamilton One 125

 

3 replies
  1. lesedgerton
    lesedgerton says:

    Here’s one from the other side… Years ago, I left a nightclub thoroughly plowed, stepped on it and a cop was waiting across the street. He put the light on and I pulled over. He was somewhat portly… nah, make that fat… and he waddled up to my door, his thumbs hooked in his Sam Browne belt. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Where’s the fire?” “Why, officer,” I said, “the fire’s in your eye.” Well, he wrote that on the back of the ticket and waved me on my way. (This was in the late sixties, before a points system or DUIs were very common.) I took it downtown to the South Bend courthouse to what they called “cafeteria court” where you could pay off traffic tickets on your lunch hour and stuck it through the little window. The lady clerk, looked at it, flipped it over, and burst out laughing. “What’s up?” I said. She said, “When someone smarts off, the officer will write it on the back. We have a range we’re allowed to fine and when there’s something on the back, we’re supposed to fine the maximum.” My heart began to sink. “But,” she said, “I know this asshole so I’m fining you the minimum.”

    Justice…

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