What's That Smell?

One evening after a full night of busting up cock fights and illegal gambling houses Trooper Ray and Trooper Bob decided to go find a quiet farm to market road to work up their paper work. You see out in the country in the late 1950’s there wasn’t much to do so people made their own entertainment. Some people raised roosters to fight while others would spark up a steel. Moonshine was plentiful as was illegal entertainment. On any given night or at any given rodeo you can find an illegal game of craps or a cock fight. They found a quiet place and settled in for the remainder of the shift. Then out of no where came a crazy driver. He was all over the road and traveling at way too fast a rate of speed. “Ray,” Trooper Bob drawled “whatcha wanna bet that sommabeech is drunk as Cooter Brown?”

Remember back in those days there wasn’t a three strike rule and usually the officers knew the people in the communities. Often if you were caught driving drunk you got taken to the county jail allowed to sleep it off and then let go the next morning. Kind of like Otis on the Andy Griffith Show.

I’m going too interrupt the story for a minute and ask who the heck is Cooter Brown and why is he always drunk? Does he live in Cooter Court? Does Cooter’s mother know he has a drinking problem? Do you think he has found a twelve step program yet?

Trooper Ray switched the siren (SIGH-REEEN) on and pulled out of the hidey-hole where they had been parked completing their paper work and took after the speeding auto. He glanced over at Trooper Bob who was stowing away files and pulling out flashlight and ticket book. They could see the tail-lights of the car and noticed they were gaining on him way too fast. This could only mean one thing. The car was stopped. They knew from the years on the job that either the driver had heard the siren and saw the lights and stopped on his own or something had stopped him.

They rolled up behind the speeder’s car that was now wedged firmly up against a telephone pole. The troopers approached the car to find a man in the driver’s seat reeking of alcohol (pronounced al-key-hall). Trooper Bob reached down to make sure the inebriated driver was not hurt. Trooper Bob leaned into the driver door and quickly pulled back. Trooper Ray concerned asked “Bob is he ahright?” Trooper Bob a little green behind the gills looked at Ray and said “Ye-up he’s ahright, but he has shit himself.” Trooper Ray looked at Bob and said “Well he ain’t gettin in our car. I jest cleaned to vomit out of it from last night.” Trooper Bob looked at his partner and shook his head and replied “Ray how we gonna get him to the jail house if we don’t put him in the car. He ain’t hurt so we can’t call an ambulance. We can’t tie him to the hood like a deer. What are we gonna do?”

The two troopers got the man out of the car and sat him on the side of the road while they pondered their dilemma. Then in the distance they heard a car coming their way. The headlights got closer and they realized it was a pick-up truck. Trooper Bob looked at Ray and said “Hey I got idear. You wait here with Pablo and I’ll be right back.” Trooper Bob took his 4 foot long Maglight flashlight and walked out in the middle of the highway. He started waving his hands back in forth in the universal hey I’m standing in the road and need you to stop signal. The truck slowed and came to a stop in front of Trooper Bob. Bob went around to the driver’s window where an old rancher sat with his dog. “What’s the problem officer?” the rancher quarried. “Well sir,” Trooper Bob started “we got us a drunk driver that we need to get to the jail, and we need your help.” The rancher patted his dog spit out a plug of tobacco and said “Why sure. How kin I halp?” Trooper Bob explained his situation and the condition of the driver. The rancher chuckled and said “well just throw his ass in the back and I’ll be happy to oblige.”

Trooper Bob went over to Ray and they perp walked the drunk to the back of the truck. They each grabbed an arm and an ankle and lifted him up to toss him in the back. About that time Pablo the drunk started screaming “please don’t kill me! I didn’t do nuthin wrong!” Trooper Bob said “Pablo, we aint killin you we are putting you in this truck to take you into the jail house.” Pablo cried “but I don’t wanna get in that truck. It smells like shit.” As they tossed Pablo in the bed of the truck both officers said “That’s not the truck, that’s YOU!”

Sometimes being a trooper is a shitty job, but you figure out a way to get it done.