Should Eso be allowed to get freaky wheresoever he chooses?
- Yeah, it’s a veritable long-range booty call!
- Hell no, I have to ride in that backseat sometimes!!!
Friends, I must now relate to you a story that is sad, but true.
At approximately 11:40pm, Friday January 3, 2003, at Ridley Island, on the waterline just before the gravel road starts, I and an anonymous female companion were nestled snugly in the luxurious confines of my gainly chariot, the Silver Bullet (translation: I was getting it on in the backseat of the Buick). While reveling in our shared and fundamental state of nakedness, my companion became alarmed at the sight of a pair of headlights approaching from the road, and ceased our activities in order to alert me.
We relinquished our embrace and fumbled for clothes with which to cover ourselves, as we realized we had been stung by a sleuthy agent of law enforcement, who had exited his vehicle (which was parked just inches behind mine, preventing any chance of escape).
Calmly, I turned the ignition to accessory, in order to use the power windows that came with the luxury package on a 1988 Buick Century, and, only a t-shirt strewn across my lap to hide my nudity, greeted the interrupting Mountie.
“Good evening.” I said with a smirk, for I was beginning to relish the hilarity of my situation, and could not help a grin from spreading across my face. Looking into the vehicle with a flashlight, which caused my friend in the passenger seat to cringe, as she covered herself best she could, and this uniformed superhero got straight to the point.
“How old are you?” He asked me, straight-faced, and when I answered, he repeated the question to the automobile’s other occupant. She too responded truthfully, and boy in blue shook us down for pieces of photo I.D., should we have any, which we were both more than happy to present.
He returned to his roving office, giving us an opportunity to dress, which we seized. After a seemingly lengthy conversation with central intelligence, he once again strode confidently to my drivers’ side window, and handed us back our identification cards, leaning in through the window to hand my companion her’s, rather than giving it to me to pass on to her.
He then firmly bode us good night, hinting that continued acts of such moral indecency would not be tolerated. At that, he drove away, allowing us to do the same.
Highlights included him knowing Anita’s mom (who works as an administrative assistant for the RCMP), and this memorable gem: “Well, I have a feeling I won’t be able to flirt my way out of this one.”
My only regret from the whole thing is that I wasn’t ticketed or written up or anything. I would have loved an official piece of paper citing me for boinking in public or something.
Also, I tried to change my MSN name to
but it was rejected. So I tried removing the colons, then the quotation marks, the then Uhh, and so forth, until I finally found the culprit. The word “officer” isn’t allowed in an MSN name. What the fuck? I think the terrorists may have already won.
