Moustache Diary, Entry #8

Another serious test ride today. Got pulled over by a motorcycle cop as I was coasting the mini van down one of those hills on Pine Lake Road.
They’re big hills; let me tell you. Big enough to get you 12 mph over the speed limit. No problem.
Give it a shot sometime. If you don’t ride the brakes you can hit 52 without even trying.

Anyway.
He got me.

I stopped on a side street out of the way of traffic. I had my license and registration out before he got up to my window. I even said, “Yes sir. No sir,” and all that.
And then I remembered my moustache.

Cops like moustaches. At least it seems like they do. “Maybe he’ll see mine and let me off with a warning.” I thought as I kind of leaned my upper lip out the window a little bit. “Maybe if the sun hits it just right, he’ll be overcome by my whisker-growing efforts. He’ll recognize our brotherhood. He’ll ask me what I think about the Huskers chances against Iowa State.”

No dice. The dude was not a true bro. Not at all.

Of course, these results are non-scientific. In hindsight, I don’t think I should have been test riding my moustache on the cop level yet. Plus this guy didn’t have a moustache of his own. Not sure how or if that affected the outcome. My team's researching that as we speak.

Oh, well.
Maybe moustaches work well in a STOP class situation.
I’ll let you know.