Race Weekend Central

Voices From the Cheap Seats: A Bad Day In A NASCAR World

Apparently, I hit the snooze button one too many times this morning. Suddenly, my eyes fly open and I realize I am already running 20 minutes behind schedule in my morning routine. Time to prioritize!

OK, skip the morning cup of coffee and cig on the deck… well, the cig and the deck part, anyway! I pour a cup of coffee left in the pot from the day before and nuke it for 55 seconds in the microwave. Yeah, I’ve done this one before, so I know by trial and error the correct time for stale coffee in my particular model of microwave.

What kind of things does Jeff Meyer have nightmares about? Find out in this edition of Voices.

No, time to pack a lunch — just gonna have to hit the Mickey D’s come lunch time. Oh crap! I’m gonna be right in the thick of the all the damn school buses, too! Swell.

Having thrown my clothes on and as I’m heading out the door, I’m trying desperately to remember what it is that I forgot. The irony of what I just thought hits me. If I could have remembered, I wouldn’t have forgot in the first place! Do I need smokes? A quick check reveals that I am probably good ‘till lunch and I can get some at the station next to Mickey D’s.

Of course, it seems that I hit every red light on my way to the expressway, not to mention the aforementioned school buses. Oops, sorry I mentioned that! Irony again!

OK, I’m finally on the interstate! Gotta watch it through here… the cops like to sit just around the bend so if I set my cruise for the speed limit (and yes, I just checked it against my GPS unit last week) I should be good.

WTF?! Why is this cop behind me with his lights on? OK, be cool, I signal and move over a lane to the right. Crap! He came over too! OK, OK! I’m pulling over. (And then, I do about the most suspicious thing a smoker can do, but we just can’t help ourselves… I lit a fresh smoke. Trust me, as a man with a law enforcement/security background, every smoker that a cop has pulled over has a fresh smoke in their mouth as they get to the window!)

“Can I see your license and registration and proof of insurance, please?”

“Uh, sure,” I stammer, as I lean over towards the glove box, hoping like heck that I’ve put my latest insurance card in there. Sweet! There it is… and with my registration, too!

“Mr. Meyer, do you know why I pulled you over this morning?”

For a brief fleeting moment, the thought runs through my head to say, “You mean you don’t know, either?!” Self-control gets the better of me.

“No sir. I know I wasn’t speeding. I had my cruise control set on 65 and I just checked it las…”

“No Mr. Meyer, you were not speeding. However, while you were going the correct speed limit, you were right AT the limit. I think this vehicle is quite capable of going faster.”


“Mr. Meyer, while you have not technically broken any laws, it is my belief that you intended to go faster once you passed where I was stationed, and I am quite sure that this vehicle is capable of breaking the posted limit.”

“What the hell are you talking abou…”

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ticket you. In case you haven’t heard, Commissioner France’s new initiative to prevent crime, and that includes speeding, is being strictly enforced and I have no choice but to give you a ticket. The fine will be 100,000 dollars and 25 points will be placed on your record. Please remain in your vehicle while I check your license.”

“What the fu…? Commissioner France? A 100,000 bucks!? Are you nuts? You can’t do that! I haven’t done anything wrong,” I protest, with self-control leaving me as suddenly as it first arrived and I attempt to exit the car.

As if in slow motion, I see the officer whirl and draw his baton. This can’t be happening! He’s about to beat me for nothin…


WTF?! All I see is darkness, and I’m sweating profusely. My eyes slowly adjust and I can see red numbers slowly coming into focus in front of me. Five… no, Six! With sudden lucidity, I realize that’s its all been a terrible, terrible nightmare!

Instinctively, I reach for the snooze button… OMG NO!

I’ll never hit the snooze button again!

Stay off the wall!

Jeff Meyer

Contact Jeff Meyer

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