The other day, I told Glenn and Cindy about my speeding ticket. Then Cindy told us about the one she got a couple weeks ago. Glenn decided to show his sympathy by explaining how a cop buddy of his told him how to talk your way out of a ticket: get out of the car slowly, keep your hands where the officer can see them, and go no further than the edge of your car. “Works every time,” he said with a grin. “Even in Indiana.”
This morning, he showed me a little yellow piece of paper he got last night from a gentleman in uniform.
Steer clear of me, people.
(Holly, I apologize if I jinxed you by accident– but at least yours was only a warning. I didn’t mean to put a whammy on you.)
I learned last night just how relaxing a dirty martini can be after a workout. Isn’t there protein in blue cheese-stuffed olives?
The cycling classes at my club are on hiatus while they do some repairs on the bikes. Instead, they’re offering a cardio-variety class in its place. Wanna know how uncoordinated I am? Didn’t think so.
My refinancing closing is tomorrow, so I’m waiting for my final numbers. It would be nice to have them today, so I can get the check cut. I would hate to have to come downtown tomorrow morning before the closing since my bank (ahem) doesn’t have any branches near me.