Labels: Beetle, cars, Volkswagen

Labels: Beetle, carputer, cars, DuoCor, MobileDemand, OQO, pc, ultracompact laptop, VAIO, Volkswagen

I have a lot of stories and I like to tell them, but any story needs background. Here's the background on this one:

I work at Maloney's on Fourth, a bar, as a DJ. To avoid traffic and pedestrians I go around the back in my '62 baja Beetle. It's loud, but not annoyingly loud, and very bright red with the engine hanging out the back (like most bajas).

I arrive at 9 in the evening and pull around the turn around the back. I'm going a good 25 miles an hour but it's a very broad turn at about a 60 (as opposed to 90) degree angle, plus, since I'm turning left, I'm on the outside of the turn. And I down shifted into second gear, creating a wonderful roar from my, er, 40-horsepower engine.

As I pull in, the other doormen are hanging out behind the bar, and I hear whoops as a police car's lights turn on. I figure they're stopping a drunk guy. I pull into a spot and get out. And then I hear it:

"Stay in the car!" I look around. The spotlight on the cop car is on me. "Get in the car!" I'm a bit bewildered, and look behind me. No, he's definitely talking to me. I get back in my car. I hope this doesn't make me late. This is stupid. Maybe I've got a tail-light out and the cop is bored. Either way, the doormen who are waiting for the shift to start are now watching.

And I wait. Get my license and registration. And wait.

Couple minutes later, cop walks up and says, "well somebody's dumb tonight." I just look at him. I'm floored. I wonder if my engine is on fire and I just didn't notice. All I can manage is, "What?"

"License and registration." I already have it in his hands before the sentence is out of his mouth. "Hmph. How old are you?" I tell him. He walks away without comment, with my license and registration. Probably checking it against their little database. I know I'm clean ... I've never had a moving violation ticket, and only once had an equipment violation (for a tail-light, 'natch). The doormen would like them to have me arrested, judging from the catcalls.

A different cop comes up. Unable to suppress my curiosity I turn around to see the other cop leaning against the car I'm assuming is both of theirs. "OK, what's your deal, man?" he asks me. I stare blankly. "I work here?" Hey, it's the truth. Maloney's must have me trained well to be still thinking of getting to work in time. "My buddy here said that when he asked you how old you are, you said, 'old enough'." Which of course is fine, except for the fact that it's a total lie. But now I'm not sure what the hell's going on. "I didn't. I said I was twenty-four." He scoffs. I hate scoffs.

"You know, you need to learn how to talk to cops better - I mean, I could give you five tickets right now."

Right. Try and I'll see you in court. Now I'm getting a little pissed. He continues.

"You came around that turn real fast, didn't you? Do you know what the speed limit is here?" It's 25 miles per hour. I told him so. He seems disappointed. Jeez, what kind of idiot wouldn't know that the street - which is essentially an industrial alley - would have that limit?

"I saw you coming around that turn at 45 miles an hour."

Ok, wait a second. There's a lot of problems with this. First, I am not a good enough driver to get around that corner that fast - with the gravel that inhabits the corner, I'm not sure Mario Andretti could do it. Second, I was in second gear coming around that turn. I'd have to be in my top gear to do that - that's 4th gear in my little bug. (Yes, I realize that it's sad that 45 MPH is my top gear.) Going 45 in second gear would make my engine go kablooey. Seriously - my 0-60 with those huge back tires, is about 4 minutes. The car had a top speed of about 65 miles per hour - 75 with a good wind and a flat road. And third, why on Earth would I want to go that freaking fast in a blind turn back alley when I know there's several hundred people milling about, possibly including my boss?

Thankfully, my head was filling with reasons to tell this guy what an ass he was so fast none of them came out of my mouth. And he keeps going.

"You know, if you're going to have a car build for speed..." - my eyes bulged in an effort to control my laughter - "... you better learn how to drive it. Here." He hands me my neat little wallet of registration and my license. "I'm letting you off but if I see you go just one mile an hour over the limit, I'll bust you for everything I can."

It's about this time I realized that he probably thought I was speeding because I downshifted and the engine revved. Still - "Built for speed" .. my ass. I am not in a Ferrari. It's a VW Beetle. Seriously, guys like him give decent cops a bad name and explain why I mutter when I see cops. I was not late.

Currently listening : Happy Songs for Happy People By Mogwai

Labels: Beetle, cops, DJ, idiots, Maloney's, road rage, stories, true