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fh_alumni"No, Officer," John was saying, standing outside his house wearing fluffy fuzzy bunny slippers, blue bathrobe, and a shiteating grin of innocence, "I have no idea why the airbag went off when the radio was removed. Isn't that kind of dangerous?"
The officer glared at John. "I had it installed professionally," he continued, "at a place downtown. Receipt's still in the glovebox. You don't...you don't think they miswired it, do you?" Nevermind that the receipt was for a shop that closed down at least six months ago, and no reputable place would cross the airbag wire with anything remotely connected to the radio.
"Do I need to press charges, Officer? I mean, he cut a hole in the window here. It's only plastic, but it's still vandalism. And he cut the battery wire, too."
"How do you explain how the airbag went off if the battery was disconnected?" inquired the officer, not able to belive a second of John's story.
"Oh, I had the batteries relocated to the back there, behind the rear seat," he said, sipping his coffee and placing the mug on the fender. "The one up front is just for the winch. Two deep-cycle batteries; put that in when I converted it to diesel. Helps balance out the weight, put more at the rear where it's needed."
The cops had a field day searching John's car, asking way too many questions about why someone would need a locking rifle case (empty, "for fishing rods"), rope ("mountain climbing"), a stack of MREs and water bottles ("Survival camping. It's a hobby"), and an exploded airbag, complete with woould-be robber taking a gurney ride to the hospital ("Don't know. Guess he wasn't paying attention when he was trying to steal my radio.").
John was 'released' after a few hours and told not to go anywhere. It would take time for him to go anywhere anyways, now that he had to re-pack the Get Out Of Dodge equipment back into his bug-out vehicle. Serves him right for parking on the street. All that, and still time enough for him to sit on the couch, 'working', and watcing whatever bad movies were on all before lunch.
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The officer glared at John. "I had it installed professionally," he continued, "at a place downtown. Receipt's still in the glovebox. You don't...you don't think they miswired it, do you?" Nevermind that the receipt was for a shop that closed down at least six months ago, and no reputable place would cross the airbag wire with anything remotely connected to the radio.
"Do I need to press charges, Officer? I mean, he cut a hole in the window here. It's only plastic, but it's still vandalism. And he cut the battery wire, too."
"How do you explain how the airbag went off if the battery was disconnected?" inquired the officer, not able to belive a second of John's story.
"Oh, I had the batteries relocated to the back there, behind the rear seat," he said, sipping his coffee and placing the mug on the fender. "The one up front is just for the winch. Two deep-cycle batteries; put that in when I converted it to diesel. Helps balance out the weight, put more at the rear where it's needed."
The cops had a field day searching John's car, asking way too many questions about why someone would need a locking rifle case (empty, "for fishing rods"), rope ("mountain climbing"), a stack of MREs and water bottles ("Survival camping. It's a hobby"), and an exploded airbag, complete with woould-be robber taking a gurney ride to the hospital ("Don't know. Guess he wasn't paying attention when he was trying to steal my radio.").
John was 'released' after a few hours and told not to go anywhere. It would take time for him to go anywhere anyways, now that he had to re-pack the Get Out Of Dodge equipment back into his bug-out vehicle. Serves him right for parking on the street. All that, and still time enough for him to sit on the couch, 'working', and watcing whatever bad movies were on all before lunch.
[open for visitors and/or phone calls]
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