Yesterday, I was pulled over by one of Augusta's finest. The first thing I did when he pulled up behind me was give the "go around me wave" because I had no clue what I did wrong. Well, he stayed behind me for another half a block or so, and he then hollered over his speaker, "Pull over!" I had to act quick, so I stuck all the angel dust and heroin I had up my butt. I knew I didn't have anything to worry about there, but I was still trying to figure out what I did wrong. Was it because of my suspicious black Explorer? Did I put my turn signal on too early? "Do you know why I pulled you over?" To which I responded, "I have no idea." "You're not wearing your seatbelt. Is there a reason for that?" Yeah, I'm a risk taker behind the wheel. So he heads back to his car with my license and shit, and I immediately begin planning my way out of such a dumb ticket.
The only thing I could come up with was...
I tried really hard to cry. I thought of all kinds of sad shit -- the Dawson's Creek break-up, I am Sam, student loans, what Adrian Peterson said, but nothing was happening. Apparently nothing needed to happen. I got a warning. Let me go ahead and warn Augusta -- I'm not wearing my seatbelt. Suck it.
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