Beer and CHiPs

That's right California Highway Patrol. Frikkin Ponch pulled me over today as I was crawling back from Berkeley where I had bags fo beer supplies, a take & bake CostCo pizza and some fresh bread from Acme. Why, oh why, doing oh-five in the slow lane would the man with no eyes pull over my poor dented truck? No seatbelt, of course, because I am a lazy shit.

Interesting thing was my first thoughts. I had to give myself the once over, checklisting my potential illegal behavior...had I been drinking? Speeding? I knew the seatbelt was off, but oh well, right? I even considered reaching over to pull it on. Good thing, would have been a dumb move.

Anyway, officer BoBrady takes my license and reg, comes back with my ticket, looks in the passenger seat. "What is THAT?" He asks, and I assume he's looking at the copper tubing making up my wort chiller. "Is it COKE?"

I think I laughed, and blurted a "mmghyeah, right! It's beer-making stuff." I reach over and grab the brown bag and only then do I realize he's looking at this huge clear bag of off-white powder. I show him.

"That would have been some drug bust," he exclaims and stands to leave.

"I would have to be a pretty stupid drug dealer," I reply.

"I don't have to lecture you on your seatbelt, do I? You just didn't put it on?"

I shake my head, frowning. I thought we had passed this point in our relationship. C'mon, beer buddy, how's about tearing up that stupid $20 tichie so's I can make more beer?