Have A Bombastic Christmas

, , , , , , | Legal | December 22, 2019

(It is just before Christmas and my parents and I have flown interstate to spend the holidays with my sister. We are all heading down the highway back to her house, with my sister and mum in the backseat chatting away and me sitting shotgun, leaving my dad driving. We end up taking an exit too soon. Had my dad taken the correct exit, the speed limit we are traveling at, 100km/h, would have continued for some time. But instead, the speed limit for the exit we do take rapidly drops down to 80, and my dad, in his flustered state at having gotten lost, misses all the speed signs. Lo and behold, there are the cops. We get pulled over.) 

Officer: *to my dad* “You were doing 96 in an 80 zone.”

Dad: “We are visiting my sister, and I am unfamiliar with the roads.”

(When my flustered dad ends up starting to repeat himself, the officer cuts him off saying that he will be back after checking his license. In Western Australia, if you’re found speeding at up to 9km/h over you only get a $70 and no demerit points; however, at 10 to 19 over it’s $330 and two demerit points. Considering it’s just before Christmas, it’s double-demerit point season, leaving my dad facing a $660 fine and four demerit points. My mum is now having a go at my dad, getting him worked up, and he proceeds to enter what we call “the bombastic mode,” and as such, all information will go in one ear and out the other.)

Officer: *returns to the car* “Because you are travelling interstate and visiting family, and it’s the holiday season, I’m going to be lenient with the charge and only book you at the lower offence: $140 and zero demerits.”

(Bombastic Mode Dad proceeds to not take a word of this in and starts arguing with the officer, again saying how we had gotten lost etc. I lean over, grab his arm, look him dead in the eye, and say:)

Me: “Shut the f*** up.”

(I then look over at the officer, smile, and say:)

Me: “Thank you, officer. My dad really does appreciate you only fining him for a minor offence and not the higher offence, for which—” *death glares my dad* “—HE IS 100% AT FAULT. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a pleasant day, and don’t have to deal with any more morons today.”

(I release my tight grip on his arm and sit back. My dad then sheepishly takes the ticket and his license and thanks the officer, and the officer walks back to the patrol car.)

Mum: “You’re a f****** idiot.”

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This Story Has A Lot Of Paragraphs

, , , , | Legal | December 20, 2019

(I’m a truck driver and have been for 18 years now. I drive on this particular road every day, so I know it well. Due to previous colleagues and bosses over the years trying to make me work faster by saying this or that is actually allowed, even though it isn’t, I’ve started examining the various laws to make sure I don’t do anything that would get me fined by the police. Along the way, I’ve discovered many other unrelated paragraphs that are just fun bonus info. I am on my way back to the company after finishing my last delivery. It is late Friday evening, I am talking to a buddy of mine via headset, and I am almost at my destination when I see a car pull up on my left side and stay there for a bit. Blue lights come on. I pull over and wait while both officers approach me. Throughout most of this exchange, [Officer #1] does the talking while [Officer #2] remains oddly quiet.)

Me: “Evening, officers. What can I do for you tonight?”

Officer #1: “You can start by telling me what you think you’re doing?”

Me: “Um… driving a truck and talking to a friend?” *pulls on headset cord to prove it’s in* “Why do you ask?”

Officer #1: “You’re going 70 in a 90 zone; that can cause some serious situations with people getting annoyed and overtaking when they shouldn’t.”

Me: “Yes?”

Officer #1: “You’re not allowed to drive that slowly!

Me: “How fast should I be going, then?”

Officer #1: “80, at least; otherwise, you will disrupt traffic too much, and when we pulled you over, there were about fifteen cars behind you because you were driving far too slow.”

Me: “80? Hmm, that’s odd.” *turning to [Officer #2]* “Do you agree with your colleague?”

Officer #2: “I do.”

Me: “Okay, then. One question. When you say I’m not allowed to drive slow, are you referring to [traffic law] Paragraph 41, Section 3?”

Officer #1: *jaw dropped* “Um… y-yes, I am.”

Me: “I see… Well, officers, while I totally get why you pulled me over, and I do hate it when other people are driving slower than me on the freeway, according to [traffic law] Paragraph 43, Section 2, trucks like this one are not allowed to go past 70 km/h on roads of this particular classification, even though the signs clearly state a 90 limit. The only place I am legally allowed to drive 80, as you suggested I do ‘at least,’ is on the freeway, which is specified in Paragraph 43, Section 4. I am under no circumstances allowed to drive faster than 80 and never outside of the freeway, so I cannot legally drive any faster than the 70 I was doing when you pulled me over.”

(I could almost hear the pin drop at the same time as their jaws, along with the gears in their head trying to comprehend what just happened.)

Officer #1: “O-okay, then… I guess there’s no reason to stay mad at you, then.”

Me: “That would be a waste of energy.”

Officer #2: “If you would just blow into this breathalyzer before we leave, we’ll let you get on your way.”

(I blow.)

Officer #2: “It’s 0.0; you’re good to go.”

Me: “Thank you and goodnight.”

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They Were Hoping You Couldn’t Tell Time

, , , , , | Working | November 7, 2019

(Not long after I move into the city, my family drives over to see how I’ve settled in and take me out to dinner. My dad drives, dropping us off at the restaurant before going to find a parking spot. When he joins us, he tells us he parked at a meter and gave it plenty of quarters. We have a nice dinner, and then my dad leads us to where he parked the car. He gets to it first and sees something that angers him.)

Dad: “Oh, are you kidding me?”

Me: “What?”

Dad: “There’s a parking ticket on the windshield, but there are still ten minutes left on the meter!”

Mom: “Wait, really?”

(Sure enough, there are about ten minutes left on the meter from when my dad originally put money in it. The time stamp on the ticket shows that it was issued about ten minutes before we got there, meaning the ticket was issued with twenty minutes left on the meter! My parents take photos showing the ticket, the meter, and their watches to prove the mistake so they can contest the ticket. After this, they take me back home, and I forget about the whole thing until a few months later when I’m with my mom.)

Me: “Oh, hey, remember back when you got that parking ticket even though there was still time on the meter?”

Mom: “Oh, yes.”

Me: “You contested it, right? What happened?”

Mom: “They wouldn’t admit that the officer was at fault, but they still accepted our appeal.”

Me: “So, they agreed that you shouldn’t have to pay the ticket — the ticket that their officer left for no reason — but it’s still not the officer’s fault somehow.”

Mom: “Yep.”

(Gotta love city parking.)

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The Stop Sign Should Be For Her Mouth

, , , , | Legal | October 7, 2019

This story was related to me by one of my friends who is a bit “special.”

My friend was driving on a two-lane highway late at night and came to a stop sign. As she drove up to the stop sign, she looked in her mirror and saw there was a car behind her. She immediately panicked and thought the car behind her wasn’t going to stop, so she went through the stop sign without even slowing down.

That’s when the car behind her put on its lights and sirens.

After the cop pulled her over she tried to explain to him that she had thought that he wasn’t going to stop and was going to crash into her. The officer asked her if she thought that he was driving unsafely. She said yes.

She got a ticket for running the stop sign, but to this day she can’t understand why the police officer wouldn’t accept her excuse.

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Worming Her Way Out Of A Ticket

, , , , , , | Legal | October 1, 2019

(It’s about 9:00 pm on a Sunday night when my three-year-old comes to tell me she has bugs in her poop. At first, I ignore her because she’s also recently claimed the “bugs under her skin” have been “controlling” her this last week and that’s why she’s been acting out a little. After a little while, I go and look, and it turns out the kid is right; she’s got pinworms. I quickly load her in the car and start driving to the nearest pharmacy for medicine. We hardly leave our apartment before I see red and blue lights behind me. I pull over immediately, freaking out because at 25, this is the first time I’ve ever been pulled over. The officer comes out, asks for the usual, and adds on:)

Officer: “You’ve got a tail light out, ma’am. Mind telling me why you and the little one are out so late?”

Daughter:*super happy voice* “I’ve got butt worms, Offser, and we need medicine, ’cause the butt worms are itchy!”

(The officer couldn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes. He did give me a warning, just so I could show any other officers that might have stopped me, but we got home fine, and I was able to fix the light, and my kid’s “butt worms.”)

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