Monday, May 15, 2006

I Wear My Sunglasses At Night...

"So I can, so I can." Well as some of you know I have these prescription sunglasses I had to get after my bout with sun poisioning. Or to be more specific, UV Carititis, or burning of the Cornea due to UV rays, blah, blah blah. Anyway they were also made for night driving to reduce road glare with some specialized polarization nonsense. So basically I drive at night with sunglass.

Anyway, to the point of the story, me, my mother and her fiancee' are driving up to Oswego NY on Saturday night to move my sister back to Brooklyn from that shithole of a "city". It's about 12:30 am and on Route 481 way up in this North Bumblefuck town called Fulton suddenly there's about 10 cop cars on each side of the road doing sobriety tests. My mom is panicking because we're in a large rental truck and she's sitting on a plastic patio chairs shoved between the two seats. So she's sure she's getting busted for no seatbelt.

Well I stop the van with an officer shining a maglite flashlight into the van. I roll down the window and the first thing the Keystone Cop says?

"You're wearing sunglasses?".

Yes deputy Dewey, I'm wearing sunglasses. Call me Cory Hart.

"Prescription?" he asks. I say yes, now knowing that he too is a wearer of the sunglasses at night, but probably the kind that Eric Estrada wore in C.H.I.P.S. So now he has lost all right to bust my balls about wearing sunglasses on a dark rainy night. All that was missing was the secret Night Sunglass Wearing Club handshake.

Ponch then proceeds to ask where we're going and who we're going to see. I say my sister. He says where does she live. Then he asks what her name is. Do they honestly have anything better to do? I mean really, a house or car gets robbed in Oswego every 10 seconds and this "trooper" is playing 20 questions with me. Anyway I say my sister's name (Chantele) and asks if he knows her sarcastically. The funny part about this is if I said her last name too he probably would've known he her since her house was robbed and her car robbed (twice). So maybe that's how they identify people, oh...right, you're the April 14th robbery.

There's no real point to that story, there's a funnier part that goes with it, but it loses the humor being retold.

The other highlights of the weekend besides being stuck in a moving van for 20 hours and driving hundreds of miles...the blinking lights from the sewage treatment plans across the street from my sister's apartment that kept me up all night. Actually they had a cool nuclear reactor down the road a few miles that was straight out of the Simpsons. Oh and her cat Dusty. The only cat I ever saw play fetch and actually bring the item back to you lay it by your feet and wait for you to throw it again. She puts all lazy fat cats to shame.

I was trying to think of other funny stories...and I have a whole diatribe ready to launch about women's pocketbooks and how they are a black hole for stuff. But right now I lack the energy to launch such an attack on why women should NOT be allowed to carry more than 10 items in a bag that is no longer than an inch and rifle through the bag for hours looking for something like a bobby pin. Plus I've tried fighting this battle before. And it's a losing cause :)

Until next time kind to each other out there.

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