"Lottery Winner" -by Me, your humble web-site host Jeff

I entitle this "Lottery Winner" as that's about how lucky I feel right

Okay, so here's the scene.

I'm on my red F4, taking a few twisty very rural roads on my daily
commute from WV to VA.  I just get across the VA line and head down a
very quiet road that I know very well.  The road is nothing real
special, not particularly curvy but not straight as a board either.  I'm
cruising at about 80 and figure I'd better knock it back a few before I
get pinched by the man.  After all, I am in Loudon County VA, and the
Loudon County boys are best known for ticketing their own mothers.  So I
back down to a comfortable 65ish and continue when what to my wondering
eyes should appear?  A brown and yellow cruiser of the Loudon County
Sheriff sort.

Well, I sit upright and drop more speed, not worrying much.  He's
following another car coming at me and flips on his lights.  At this
point, I don't know whether he's pulling the other guy over, responding
to Auntie Em's "missing person" call or pulling me over, so I drop even
more speed.  As I go past him I note him pointing at me, nodding his
head and I see him say "Yes, You".  I pull over into the grass waiting
for him to turn around and think "Oh shit, the wife's not gonna be happy
about this one".

He comes up as I'm removing my gloves, helmet and earplugs and says
those words that every motorcyclist dreads.  No, not "You got a pretty
mouth", more the sort of "Where ya goin so fast speedracer?".  This chap
is about 50ish and is really pissed.  I'm thinking, not good, is this
cat gonna ticket me or pistol whip me?!  Then comes the obligatory "do
you know how fast you were going?" all the while in a very raised
voice.  Well, to not answer this question is suicide and to admit that
you are speeding is slow painful suicide, so I gave him a true answer;
"I should have been going 55" all the while knowing that around 70 is
more like it.  72 is his reply, then we get into the conversation of "if
you weren't watching your speedometer at the time, how could you know
you were going 55?".  "License and registration".

Damn, this is surely gonna end up in a ticket.  Now all I can think is
"what can I tell the judge when I go to court?" when it hits me!  Stroke
of genius!  It went something like this:

"Officer, I used to live right down this road (which is true) and I
travel it quite frequently.  I see more animals on this road than I do
at the average zoo.  With that in mind, I was watching out for possible
road hazards, traveling at what I thought was the speed limit.  (As fate
would have it, we were stopped right by a farm) See this farm?  Those
goats right there get out on the road quite often and I sure would hate
to hit one of them, so there's no sane reason that I would want to
exceed the speed limit on this road."

I wait for his response.  By now, it's been nearly 10 minutes of him
hollering and me ending every reply with "sir".  I'm just about to the
point of saying "I suppose there's no getting out of this ticket now is
there?", when he hands me my license and registration and says that
"although watching out for hazards is a good idea, you need to keep a
better eye on your speedometer", followed by the mandatory "I don't want
to have to tell your family that I just scraped your dead carcass off
this road".  With that, he bid farewell leaving me with all the points
left on my license and one thoroughly stained pair of shorts.

That was the first of NINE Loudon County Sheriff cars I saw within the
next 20 miles.  Damn were they out in force today!