lazyload

DISCLAIMER: Based on a non-true story...

 

Having the beard of a boss comes with its perks, but it also comes with unwanted attention and questioning. The majority of the world, non-bearded and bearded alike, have been in a situation involving a simple yet powerful question, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”. Now, more often than not we immediately know the answer to this question because we either ran a stop sign or got caught doing 95 in a 70 on that brand new hog. However, on a warm July afternoon, everything changed.

 

I was cruising down the highway minding my own business, abiding by the rules of the road, and letting my beard flow in the wind like a Golden Retriever with its head out the window. Then to my surprise, I saw some red and blue lights flashing out of the corner of my eye. 

 

“This couldn’t be for me, could it?” I thought to myself as I continued down the road.

 

Before I could even formulate another thought I got the patented police honk notifying me that I wasn’t complying with his demands. Being the law-abiding citizen I previously stated I am, I pulled off to the side of the highway and waited to find out what was going on.

 

Peering into my side-view mirror I saw the door to the squad car swing open, a big black boot slam onto the ground, and my heart rate went from a cool 80 BPM to a roaring 84 BPM. I wasn’t sure what was louder, the sound of me hyperventilating, or the boots grinning on the loose asphalt with every step as the officer came closer to my bike. He rolled up to my side, flipped up his aviators, pulled the toothpick out of his mouth and said...

 

“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?” in the most police officery way that the phrase had ever been spoken.

 

In a slightly shaky voice I replied, “No sir, I honestly don’t.” which was the honest truth.

 

What happened next was the most confusing, yet understandable, moment of my life thus far. More confusing than any of the girls I’ve met at bars that for some reason never texted me back. More confusing than people that like pineapple on pizza. More confusing than the Grand Canyon existing in general. More confusing than anything.

 

The officer leaned down and got so close to my face I swear I could hear his five o’ clock shadow growing, reached out, pinched my beard, and gave it a subtle (yet firm) tug. I was shocked but didn’t pull away in an effort to ensure the officer felt safe. The officer then leaned back and let out a deep sigh before asking “How’d you get that thing to stay on your face so well?” in a very serious tone.

 

“Wait, what?” I thought to myself as I figured out what on earth I was going to say back to that statement. Then it struck me. He’d never seen a beard like this before.

 

“Well, sir, I got the Big Boss Facial Hair Care Package, which paired with great beard genetics and a whole lot of accountability, has blessed me with this glorious chin rug you just tugged,” I said with full confidence and a heart rate that had slowed back down to 80.5 BPM.

 

To my complete surprise, Officer Huckleberry (I caught his nameplate out of the corner of my eye) leaned down so close to my face and breathed in so aggressively through his nose that I swear my beard went up his nostril for a second. He leaned back held his breath for a moment longer and then exhaled in a strangely pleased way. “So you’re telling me, you bought one all-inclusive” at this point he puts up his fingers and makes air quotes “beard kit, that has blessed you with such a magnificent beard I oughtta cuff ya and take ya downtown?”

 

My answer was concise, “Yes.”

 

Officer Huckleberry looked puzzled, but I could tell he was starting to believe me. I needed to be bold at this moment so I asked, “do you mind if I reach in my center console?”

 

To my surprise (again) Officer Huckleberry agreed.


I reached into my center console and grabbed the Stagecoach Scented Jelly Beard Oil that I keep on my at all times and handed it over to him. My arm was extended for so long without Huckleberry making a move I could feel my arm starting to shake, but eventually, he took the bottle.


Huckleberry eyed it up. Huckleberry eyed it down. Then eventually opened the cap giving it the same sniff he gave my beard just seconds earlier and then exhaled slightly less pleased than when he sniffed my beard… which I thought was strange. Then, too fast for me to comprehend what was going on, he looked down at me and said “you’re free to go.” turned around, walked back to his squad car and peeled off onto the highway.

 

Bossman Beard Jelly, so good… you might get robbed by Officer Huckleberry.

 

Well, I gotta go buy some more. Thanks, Officer.

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