Faster Faster

The fastest speed on the French Autobahn was clocked at approx. 320 KPH or 205MPH by a BMW out past Strausbourg in the late-80s. The police never chased the violator. They radioed ahead to the toll booth to arrange a reception for the speed demon. A road block slowed down Speedy and the driver supposedly rolled down the window to ask why the flics had stopped him.

“I am only going the speed limit.”

“Speed limit, mssr.?”

“Ouais, the speed limit for this car.”

Of course everyone exceeds the speed limit. Cars wouldn’t get us anywhere if cars obeyed the speed limit, especially out West.

My friend, Johnny Justice, works for the Arizona Highway Patrol. The state has big distance. He explained his policy of fast cars.

“If I stopped every speeder then there would be no one left on the road. I just go for excessive speed.”

An Ohio trooper felt the same way and waited on I90 for a prize. An hour passed and then two, finally he heard the whine of a Ferrari. A flash of low-slung red zipped westward and the trooper flicked on his cherry disco display. The high-speed pursuit ended as soon as the driver of the Ferrari spotted the statie.
The cop pulled up behind him and got out of his car, hand on his gun.

Speeding twice the limit was a serious affair.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you.” He was ready to write him a thick stack of tickets, except the driver quipped, “And I tried to get here as soon as I could.”

Supposedly the police officer cut the driver loose.

A reward for his humor, because faster faster is not always a crime on the open road. It is simply the way of life.

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