Monday, February 21, 2005
How's My Driving?
I consider myself a good citizen. I hold open doors for people following me whether they're men or women. I wouldn't want their anonymous noses smashed by high-tension spring-loaded glass. I throw my litter into gas station garbage cans. I wouldn't want stray cats to choke to death on mustard soaked wax paper. Actually, I would. Hmmm. I never park over two spots on a crowded city street. I buy candy from youth groups to keep cripples on crutches.
I may not hang Christmas decorations or paint my address in yellow stencil on the curb, but I'm a decent citizen. I vote.
This morning I was following a disheveled catering truck. It's bumper was adorned with a green sticker that read "Report Drug Smuggling - Call 1-800-BE-ALERT."
I heard the Supreme Court recently allowed cops to use drug-sniffing dogs at routine traffic stops without probable cause. Experienced, trained, sunglasses wearing patrolmen the nation wide can't seem to identify a smuggler unless he is sweating profusely, shaking like an electrocution victim, or blowing marijuana in the cop's face. So now dogs can be used indiscriminately.
So how am I, citizen Joe Average, supposed to accurately identify and report instances of drug smuggling? I can think of a million criteria that all suggest illegal drugs but are not concrete proof.
Usually people in Illinois do not wear Hawaiian shirts. Is that a beer belly or a kangaroo pouch full of heroin? Either I poke him in the navel with a switchblade or call the feds. What would you do?
What about every Italian in a leather coat who showered in cologne? That's not a swagger, he's weighed down by strings of cocaine vials strung from his thick gnarly armpit hair. I wouldn't dare use my switchblade on this handgun happy fellow, so call the feds it is.
If your wear Grateful Dead or Bob Marley t-shirts, you deserve to be incarcerated whether you're guilty or not. I may punch you first to make sure your frisbee playing stoner buddies don't help you escape in a VW bus. Yes, I am calling the feds. Don't move or I'll strangle you with that hemp bead necklace you red-eyed burrito-scarfing mongrel.
Sorry, I got carried away again. Even if I could identify smugglers, why would I want to help our government catch them? The last time I checked, they're providing a valuable public service.
The combination of daytime television and marijuana work in tandem to keep snack food companies in business, and by proxy, 7-11s. I love 7-11.
Without cocaine and ecstasy there'd be no reason to go to a nightclub and dance, and without those, all young people would stay home and watch television, reducing our collective intelligence quota at double the current rate.
I'm terrifying myself. Must stop. The nation would be worse off without these smugglers. Without heroin... well, I don't quite have a redeemer for heroin. I'll think about it.
I love drug smugglers. I want a bumper that says "Kiss Me I'm A Smuggler." Wait a minute. No I don't. 9:09 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
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