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Originally Posted by THOTH
White van man took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?
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> When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe
> some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.
>
> Bob? Bob from his local drinking club? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own club.
> A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day in his van. A guy he was about to do business with tomorrow selling a three piece suite.
> Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every day, a man he'd never seen in uniform.
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> "Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."
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> "Hello, Jack." No smile.
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> "Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and dog."
> "Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good.
> "I've seen some long days at the club lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit -just this once or twice."
> Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement, "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"
> "I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct ." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.
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> "What'd you clock me at?"
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> "Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"
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> "Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as saw you. I was barely nudging 65" The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.
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> "Please, Jack, in the car."
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> Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window.
> The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?
> Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left.
> There was Bob, a folded paper in hand Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.
> "Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
> Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?
> Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket.
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> Jack began to read:
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>
> "Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it- a speeding driver. A fine and three months in
> jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters, all three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again.
> A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me.
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> And be careful, Jack, my son is all I have left."
> "Bob"
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> Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. white van man watched until it disappeared. A full 15 seconds later, he
> too, pulled away spinning his wheels in anger!
> Life is precious. Handle with care. This is an important message; please pass it along to your friends. Drive safely and carefully.
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