Alex Bay

So I’m in Alexandria Bay, New York, up by the Thousand Islands, almost in Canada. And I’m just a little drunk. Went there for a Honda Owner’s Group Rally but, as usual, was too cheap to stay in the riverside “headquarters” hotel, so I grabbed an inexpensive motel room on the other side of town.

After an evening get-together in the HQ bar, I was walking home through the midsummer twilight. Now, Alex Bay is not a real big place and I could almost see where I was headed. So I’d taken a shortcut route down a dark street between a couple of warehouses. Next thing I know a police car is slowly stalking me and the cop riding shotgun shouts, “Where are you going?”

I have to say, I didn’t like his accusatory tone. Being overly sensitive and reactive to unwarranted criticism is a lifelong character flaw. Being a little loaded didn’t help. So, without hesitation, I turned and sprang toward the police car, pulled open the back door and plopped myself on the seat, just missing one of the cop’s hats. As I pulled the door shut behind me, I said something like, “Wow, this is really a friendly town. It’s so nice of you to give me a ride back to my motel.”

Well, as we used to say in the army, these guys didn’t know whether to shit or wind their watches. I guess they were used to chasing people and forcing them into their car and nobody had ever voluntarily jumped into it before. After a pause, they asked which motel it was and then promptly delivered me there.

Of course, I couldn’t open the door from the inside. By that time my indignation had subsided, so when the passenger cop got out to open it for me, I was all sheepish and thankful…and falling over myself in a hurry to get into my room before they thought about what had just happened and got pissed.

Needless to say, I lay down to unwind…and to thank my lucky stars that I was in that bed and not in a magistrate’s office, or worse, in a cell. Then I started to laugh…the kind of laugh you laugh when you know you’ve really gotten away with something.

© 2024 David B Bucher