buster81
Regular Member
imported post
Yesterday, I was travelling easton I81 not too far past Bristolcoming back from Tennesseeand had an interesting encounter.I was rudely disturbed from my nice drive by what would best be described as a deliverance reject. He was driving a beat up pickup, with a big lift kit, exhaust pipes sticking straight up in the air, bondo holding rust patches together with that grey and rust colored camouflage effect.
I was driving at exactly the speed limit (I always do
) with the cruise control on,when he went by me at a high rate of speed. A few minutes later, I had to change lanes to the left to pass him as he had slowed down and moved into the right lane. Before I couldchange lanes, he flew by me on the right. I changed back to the right lane. A few minutes later, I had to pass him again. Thenhe passes me and slows down.This went on for a severalminutes. I eventually wentby him and it seemed like he was stuck in traffick behind me so I forgot about himand carried on. Ten or fifteenminutes later, it was time for a break to stretch my legs, and to take care of the three cups of coffee.
I pulled into a rest stop, parked several spaces past the building, and checked my phone for messages. As I was getting out of my truck, I see the camouflage POS three of four spaces to my passenger side and see this character walkingtowards me. He looked a little likeCooter from theDukes of Hazard anddidn't have anything in his hands, so I wasn'ttoo concerned. I didn't catch the firstpart of his outburst, but heard something about "SOB, you need to learn how to drive MF'er...bla bla bla". AsI rounded the front of my truck, he caughtsight of thepistol on my hip, and stoppeddead in his tracks.The look on his face was priceless and Iwish I could have taken a picture of it.He was still in the parking lot between the vehicles. As I walked past him on the side walk, I gave him a smile, a nod and said "Mornin'" with my best southern accent. I continued to the building and approached an older gentleman who asked me what that was all about. I told him that the guy was offering free driving lessons.
When I came out, Cooter was gone, but the old guy asked me if I was a police officer. I toldI was not, and that I was simply exercising my rights and protecting myself. He asked if you needed a license, and I told him that you did not need a license to OC, did require a CHP to CC and gave him some examples of places where you could OC, CC and not at all. I wish I had those cards I keep meaning to ask for! Wehad a nice chatand hopefully I educated him a bit. He didn't seemnervous at all. It was the first time I've been asked about OC.
Later I was pulled over by a state trooper for an alleged speeding infraction which I neither deny nor confirm. He let me gowith a warning,wasvery professional and didn't seemed bothered at all by the fact that I was OC'g. For some reason, I didn't even think to start my recorder. I must have been tired. I'll make a mental note to make that my first act when I see the flashing blue lights.
Edit to fix poor spelling.
Yesterday, I was travelling easton I81 not too far past Bristolcoming back from Tennesseeand had an interesting encounter.I was rudely disturbed from my nice drive by what would best be described as a deliverance reject. He was driving a beat up pickup, with a big lift kit, exhaust pipes sticking straight up in the air, bondo holding rust patches together with that grey and rust colored camouflage effect.
I was driving at exactly the speed limit (I always do
) with the cruise control on,when he went by me at a high rate of speed. A few minutes later, I had to change lanes to the left to pass him as he had slowed down and moved into the right lane. Before I couldchange lanes, he flew by me on the right. I changed back to the right lane. A few minutes later, I had to pass him again. Thenhe passes me and slows down.This went on for a severalminutes. I eventually wentby him and it seemed like he was stuck in traffick behind me so I forgot about himand carried on. Ten or fifteenminutes later, it was time for a break to stretch my legs, and to take care of the three cups of coffee.I pulled into a rest stop, parked several spaces past the building, and checked my phone for messages. As I was getting out of my truck, I see the camouflage POS three of four spaces to my passenger side and see this character walkingtowards me. He looked a little likeCooter from theDukes of Hazard anddidn't have anything in his hands, so I wasn'ttoo concerned. I didn't catch the firstpart of his outburst, but heard something about "SOB, you need to learn how to drive MF'er...bla bla bla". AsI rounded the front of my truck, he caughtsight of thepistol on my hip, and stoppeddead in his tracks.The look on his face was priceless and Iwish I could have taken a picture of it.He was still in the parking lot between the vehicles. As I walked past him on the side walk, I gave him a smile, a nod and said "Mornin'" with my best southern accent. I continued to the building and approached an older gentleman who asked me what that was all about. I told him that the guy was offering free driving lessons.
When I came out, Cooter was gone, but the old guy asked me if I was a police officer. I toldI was not, and that I was simply exercising my rights and protecting myself. He asked if you needed a license, and I told him that you did not need a license to OC, did require a CHP to CC and gave him some examples of places where you could OC, CC and not at all. I wish I had those cards I keep meaning to ask for! Wehad a nice chatand hopefully I educated him a bit. He didn't seemnervous at all. It was the first time I've been asked about OC.
Later I was pulled over by a state trooper for an alleged speeding infraction which I neither deny nor confirm. He let me gowith a warning,wasvery professional and didn't seemed bothered at all by the fact that I was OC'g. For some reason, I didn't even think to start my recorder. I must have been tired. I'll make a mental note to make that my first act when I see the flashing blue lights.
Edit to fix poor spelling.
