So I was recounting this afternoon's events to the dudes at the GNC and everyone was like, " Your stories are always amazing! You should have a blog!" And I was like, YO, I know and ... hells bells I already do!! Due to popular demand, this yarn has gots to be spun online, beyotch!
After updating my myspace and taking a client to Rainforest Cafe, I took a half day from work for some interval training to tune up my aerobic system before this weekend's races. So I found a sweet little motley street with a bit of a hill and was kicking angry-ass interval-style. I just knew I was rocking pretty fast. But when the 5-0 pulled up with lights a-blazing, I was looking around to see who he was pulling over. After a little uncomfortable interaction where I said a few things I shouldn't have, I realized he was after ME. Shit, I was going so fast I got a SPEEDING TICKET ! No joke!
I didn't mean it when I called him a cock sucker, but the testosterone was a-flowin' and I wasn't really prepared to clip out, bring my heart rate down and have a chat with the po-po. Apparently there was a 25mph speed limit and I was, of course, exceeding it. So I switched gears emotionally, gingerly approached Officer Dangle, and he started grabbing lycra ! Apparently I had the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney and I was completely stunned! But being a good salesman, I realized that all was not lost. This little piggie was in the palm of my bike-gloved hand. I apologized and started to lay it on thick. Turns out Dangle is in training for his first triathalon this summer! So we talked training and basic physiology and the whole sha-bang ended with us shaking hands, exchanging cell phone numbers and coordinating a ride for next weekend.
Of course, I was advised to slow it down. As if that's even possible, peeps!
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