Old Boy Racer (Fun Poem 132)

While driving home one day my old car blew up on me and the transmission went kaput. Upon getting another car, I chose a smaller one, the kind boy racers own. Suddenly I became a speed demon driving down the motorway doing a ton with the wind ruffling through the remaining hair I had. One day while really pushing it, blue lights began flashing behind me. The cops told me to pull over, which at once I did. An officer approached my car with me crammed behind the wheel. 'What speed do you think you were doing? ' 'I don't know officer I couldn't see the speedo.' 'I clocked you at doing a 110.' 'Really! ' I said as he wrote me out a ticket. 'I'd advise you to adjust your seat so you can see the speedo.' 'Yes officer I will do that.' I replied. I sat there for a moment; a smile crept across my face. My son will no believe it when I show him the ticket. He'll probably say the Police had it wrong, the ticket was probably for going slow. I drove off after the Police had gone, my foot to the floor again. Back into my boy racer mode, but in my case now it was an old boy racer mode. 25-26 April 2012