On Friday night I was responding to a traffic collision when I saw a car run a stop sign as it turned left. There were units at the collision scene so I decided to stop the car.
I put my lights on and the vehicle pulled over abruptly. I exited my car and walked up on the driver door with my hand on my gun. A shone my flashing into the car as I looked for the driver’s hands.
I inched closer wondering what was up with the driver because of the abrupt stop and the way he ran the stop sign. That’s when he turned toward me with a panicked look as he practically yelled, “Officer, I have to poop! I have to poop!”
“You have to poop?”
“Yes, I have to poop!”
“Are you sweating?” I asked.
“No,” he replied with a strange look.
“Then you don’t have to poop that bad then.”
“Why didn’t you poop at the toco place down the street?”
“There was a taco place?”
He was talking fast and looked like he was crowning. From his facial expressions, he probably had a turtle head going. At one point he leaned back in his seat like he was trying to keep the deuce back.
“How do I know you really have to poop?” I asked.
“Can you follow me to Walmart so we can talk about it there? Thats where I was going.”
At this point I figured he was legit. Maybe the poor guy really had to poop. I decided to have one last bit of fun before I let him go without a ticket.
I said, “Tell me a joke and make me laugh. Then you can go.” He closed his eyes and was deep in thought, but nothing funny was going to come from him. “And no number 2 jokes either,” I added.
With his head on the headrest and eyes closed, the driver licked both index fingers and rubbed his earlobes as he said, “My dad says this works.”
The earlobe thing made it weird. After his ears were nice and lubricated he said, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“That’s not a joke,” I corrected him, causing him to laugh.
Clearly this guy wasn’t good under pressure. He wasn’t the quarterback you wanted with the game on the line. He was just jello.
I laughed and handed him his license back as I said, “Go do that voodoo that you do.”
With a look of relief, the driver leaned out the window and said, “Thank you!”
What a crappy feeling it must’ve been when I stopped him.
You just can’t make this stuff up.