Stop the puck.

I tend to have quick reflexes. When I say quick, I mean NHL goalie quick. If you don't know what NHL means, get off my blog. 

I once caught a cast iron frying pan that had only 1cm left to go before it hit the floor, reached down hiked it back up, while still doing the dishes and talking on the phone that was lodged between neck and ear. The person who saw me do this is still frightened of me. I'm harmless, most times.

If you don't know what a centimeter is...well, really, who does?

A few weeks back, after the flood refugee free concert, my Johnny and I were at a stop sign and this scene unfolded right in front of us in a blink of an eye: 

(Before I recount this, I CANNOT believe I forgot this story until now! This is all true, I have witnesses.)

In front of the the building directly across the boulevard and elderly man was trying to walk his furry white thing of a dog. Or rabbit, not sure. Now when I say elderly, I mean good for him with his ancient stooped posture, shuffling along with his rabbit dog for the last pee at around 10pm. As to who's last pee that was, not sure. He was yanking that leash like you wouldn't believe. Odd. 

Accompanying him from the rear was a very scantily clad young lady with the best slutty shoes I've ever seen. She was rocking the spandex. I was so jealous. Upon further study, she was trailing him, talking to him, laughing a little too loud, walking a tad crooked...He kept yanking his little rabbit dog away and was shuffling as fast as his slippers let him. 

Now no offense to crack whores, but this wasn't one of those, this was a legitimate lady of the night, I'm pretty sure. If I had time to ask her, I'm fairly certain she was a union card carrying member. Let it be known right here and now I have not a single problem with prostitution, I do however have a problem with their owners. Oh, they are owned. If they are not now, they will be, by nook or by crook...

Case in point, around the corner of the building, hidden from view of stooped man and furry white tiny canine/rodent was a black SUV with two big dudes, arms crossed, waiting. Nefarious dudes. Lady of the night kinda pulling on stooped man's arm pointing in their hidden general direction....

I told you, in a blink of an eye I put it all together and knew what this scene said and what it meant if stooped man made it around the corner. It was my go at the stop, so forward I went. 

Forward with both hands on the horn. When I mean both hands, I do, non stop, loud and obnoxious. 

I SEE YOU!!! I SEE WHAT YOU ARE DOING!!! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED!!! 

Best. Horn. Honking. Ever. 

Nefarious dudes no longer had crossed arms and now resembled deer in my awesome head lights. Lady of the night - aka not crack whore - stopped in her tracks bad lipsticked mouth agape, and by God that poor stooped man was now shuffling away. Like the wind he was. 

I of course U-turned around and did it again. What?

Oh, I looked over and Johnny Depp had hit the floor. Apparently I was alone in this.

I almost got snippy at him, how dare he be embarrassed by his wife? But then I realized he was hooting with laughter on the floor of the car. Ha! Ha! It came to me then, that this was the funniest thing ever. 

Honking for Hookers. BAH HA HA!! 

They all left the scene. And I left with a magnificent story. 

I do realize one is supposed to dial 911, but hey, I just stop the pucks.

(Do not try this in countries where one has a right to bare arms, or thighs, or bears, or amendments about slingshots or something socialist or something.)


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