January 27, 2005
Calvinating the competition
Well, where do I start? It was a very bizarre day. I awoke with naught on my calendar, so decided to drive to one of the neighboring burgs to sit in court in hopes of snagging a court appointment or two. There was a judicial conference involving the judge of the court, so the court was not to be in session on this day. No problem. I merely walked over to visit the District Attorneys' Office to discuss a case I was assigned yesterday. Afterward, I drove to the jail to deliver the bad news to my client.
I thought the biggest part of my day was over and decided to go visit with Moona and eat lunch at her Rotary Club meeting. I was about 15 minutes out when I get a call inquiring why I was not appearing with my client in court in the other neighboring burg. Well, I could rant and rave about the root of that problem, but I won't. Let it just be said that while electronic communication beats snail mail anytime -- human error permeates all modes.
So, a quick u-turn and a mad dash, and I was there in less than a fortnight, if a fortnight is equal to 45 minutes. I stood around for a few minutes until there was a lull at the bench, went up and agreed to pass off the case one more time for the DA to investigate whether my poor, mentally defective, client was actually driving the evading vehicle or was merely pulling it out of the ditch after the actual driver and friend ran off and left my client holding the figurative bag the facts of the matter. It was now too late to make the hour drive to do the previously planned lunch thing, so I stopped in at Wendy's for a sumptuous lunch of burger, fries, and DP.
On my way back, however, I found myself sitting at a light next to one of those Dodge trucks with the hemi engine. I look over at the driver and he starts revving his engine as if challenging my ancient Lincoln Town Car to a drag race. The light turned and he sped off to the next red light. I again came up along side him, and he again replayed the scenario. Again, the light changed and off he sped.
I arrived at the next light, which I know from prior experience has a long left turn cycle, to see him sitting there. I deftly jumped from my car, ran around and popped the trunk, and retrieved my Calvin. Quickly, I threw it in the road and climbed back into my car just as the light changed. Off I sped, my eye affixed to the rear-view mirror watching as my Calvin took hold of the necessary equipment and commenced to spray a steady stream of urine all over the idiot in the hemi-powered Dodge Ram truck.
No, seriously folks ... I have every Calvin and Hobbes book that Waterson ever produced and I do not remember ever having seen a single drawing of Calvin urinating on anything. So, who officially assigned Calvin to urinate on everything? Initially, I suspected my own navel was involved, but it produced evidence of an iron clad alibi. End of report.
[Ed. note: No llamas were butchered in the creation of this post.]
Posted by Tiger at January 27, 2005 11:59 PMI blame my cat, Calvin. We got him and his litter-mate Hobbes in 1994, shortly before the comic ended. Since then, Calvin has peed on every couch, bed, visitor, you name it. Soon after he acquired that habit, people across the country started putting stickers on their cars showing the other Calvin doing the same thing. Coincidence? I don't think so.
Posted by: Xrlq at January 28, 2005 11:27 AM