Originally posted on 11/28/2009:

Couldn't believe it. Driving into work about 5:40 a.m., had only gone a couple of miles on the 18-mile commute. Had a CD in the player that I'd already heard once through, thought the case was in the passenger seat but couldn't feel it, so I reach my left hand down to hit the dome light and accidently pushed the turn signal forward to turn the brights on. There's a car in the oncoming lane of the little FM road, but I didn't think much of it, turned the brights off, still couldn't find the damn CD case.

About 45 seconds later the lights come on behind me, first glance to the speedometer and I see I'm doing a hair over 50 in a 55 zone, so I'm wondering what the hell this numbnuts wants and where in the hell he even came from. Pull over, young roly-poly sherrif waddles up to my window, already had my license and POL out of my wallet.

He tells me that the reason he is pulling me over is I turned my brights on and "nearly blinded" him Give him my license, he tells me to "hang tight" and then waddles back to his cruiser. I can see him get in, then almost immediately get out and head to his trunk and open it up. This sort of worried me because I've seen the arsenal the local sherrifs keep in their trunk. I had only put my truck in park, still had the engine running, and my first thought was if I see him come out form behind the truck with a shotgun or rifle, I'm haulin'.

But he gets back into his cruiser instead, sans rifle/shotgun. About two minutes later he gets out and I see he's walking towards me with his little clipboard. Geez, Louise! Tells me he's letting me off with a warning. "Oh, thank you very much, sir." Over the course of the next 11 miles or so before I hit the turn off, two other pickups in the oncoming lane have their auxiliary headlamps on, the ones they're ONLY supposed to use off-road. Sherrif Waddle was no doubt already stopped for his coffee and breakfast taco at the local diner by then, I guess.