Driving Under the Influence

"May I see your driver's license, please?"

The trooper was polite but grim. I retrieved the requested document from my wallet. He gave it a long, gimlet-eyed drilling.

"Would you please step out of the car?" he continued.

"Uh, what have I done? I haven't done anything. I wasn't speeding or anything." I was babbling, I admit. "Look, I can show you my registration and proof of insurance!" I babbled on, reaching for the glove compartment.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," advised the trooper, pointedly unsnapping the flap on his revolver.

"Suresuresure!" I agreed, throwing up my hands and shimmying rather awkwardly out the driver side door.

"You have been reported driving under the influence of a GSOH," explained the trooper. "Now, you have the right to remain silent ..."

"Oh, I see," I interrupted, not seeing. "No, those are very common. I'm what you might call 'geographically challenged,' so I installed one of those to keep from getting lost. I'm sure they're perfectly legal. Lots of people have them."

"No, no, no, you nimnul," replied the trooper, shaking his head. "That's a 'GPS.' I'm talking about a GSOH, which is a very different animal. It's a new, untested, experimental, dangerous technology and as such has been banned by the President, along with similar things, like stem cell research, family planning, and sex education."

I shook my head uncomprehendingly. "Still don't know what that is," I admitted with a shrug.

The trooper looked furtively in all directions, including up and down. "Good Sense of Humor," he whispered conspiratorially. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in."

In my panic, I glanced at another of those new-fangled innovations. My digital wristwatch with date.

"Wait!" I cried in full-throated eureka. "It's January 20th ... high noon! There's a new sheriff in town!"

"Oh, right," said the trooper, tipping his hat. "Just have a nice day, then."