Saved By Your Good Name

(My friends and I are driving back from a trip. It is getting late, and I don’t slow down as much as I should going through a little “blink and you’ll miss it” village. The town cop pulls me over — wearing jeans and a polo shirt with his badge embroidered on — and I compliantly hand over my license and paperwork. Less than a minute later, he walks back to the car and hands my stuff back.)

Cop: “I’m letting you off with a warning. I didn’t feel like trying to write your name on a speeding ticket.”

(My full name as printed runs 26 characters, including two first names, a middle initial, and the last name.)