Friday, January 13, 2006

OK, I'll post

So, last night I was hanging around at night court as part of my new position as night reporter. I was waiting for something to happen, which of course, it didn't, but I met this guy named JR who used to be a cop and now works as a bondsman. He starts telling me all these stories (which i think are actually true) about hanging out with NASCAR drivers, how Richard Petty taught him how to race, how he saw Dale Earndhart in the car after his fatal wreck and it was his own fault. But the best story was by far the following:

Photog: Hey, did you hear they're letting Hinckley out for conjugal visits and stuff?
JR, with a cigarette hanging from his lips that you think will fall, but it doesn't: Man, I arrested that clown.
Me: Whaaaa?
JR: About a year before he shot Reagan, I arrested that clown. He tried to get on a plane with a gun. In the back of the car he was asking me, 'can i get my gun back, how long do you think this will take, i GOTTA get to New York.' Blah blah, kept going on, so i asked him why did he have to get to New York so fast? And he said, 'well, I got a date with Jodie Foster.'
Me, laughing: you're not serious.
JR: Oh, yea,y'all wouldn't believe it. Then he starts asking me what I think of Reagan, and I tell him, he's better than Carter! Man, I'd take him! and he shakes his head and says, 'someone ought to kill that sonofabitch Reagan.'
So, I called the Secret Service up and let them know what he said and they were like, yea we know about this wacko, forgetaboutit. And then wouldn't you know, they call me down to the secret service a year later when he shot him, and i was like well, i told you so.

I love the South, friends.