Why I'm Glad I Drive a Toyota

                                                                       Why I'm Glad I Drive a Toyota 

By

 

Elton Camp





            I wasn’t particularly in a rush, but the multilane road over gently undulating terrain and light traffic lulled me into inattention.  Rather than following my usual practice of setting the cruise control about three miles above the legal limit, my foot became progressively heavier.  The roadside fields and distant mountains were spectacular on the early spring day even as I shot down the almost deserted road at a fast clip.



            As I topped a rise, there it set in the median facing my direction:  a gray Ford with blue lights on top.  The state trooper immediately switched on his lights and swung into the northbound lane and began to accelerate.  My speedometer showed 75 miles per hour, ten over the legal limit.  I was caught speeding with no hope of denial. 



            Seeing a few hundred flying out the window and points charged to my license, I considered the possibilities:  “I’m in a tight to go to the bathroom.”  “My wife’s sick and I’m rushing home to see about her.”  “I was speeding and I’m sorry.  Please let me off with a warning?”  “I don’t believe you know who I am.  The Governor is my first cousin.”  None of them had a ghost of a chance of succeeding. 



            Suddenly I had an inspiration and shoved the acceleration to the floorboard.  The car lurched forward at an increasing rate.  As the trooper pulled alongside me, I gestured desperately and pointed downward.  When he saw the chrome name, “Toyota,” on my sedan, he nodded in comprehension and turned on his loudspeaker.  We were up to 85 miles an hour and getting faster.  I kept my right foot pressed on the pedal as hard as I could and assumed a look of total panic. 



            “Remain calm,” he directed.  “Shift the transmission into neutral and apply the

brakes.”  His siren warned others of the desperate situation. 



            I did as instructed, making sure to keep the accelerator pinned to the floor.  Despite the roar of the racing engine, the car slowed and when it dropped to a safe speed, I pulled onto the shoulder and quickly turned off the motor.  He mustn’t catch me “red-footed.”



            “Oh, thank you so much.  It suddenly took off and went faster and faster and I didn’t know what to do,” I exclaimed with a combination of terror and relief.  I got out of the car and extended my hand in appreciation. 



            The portly man smiled and allowed, “We’re here to protect and to serve.  I’m glad it turned out good this time.” 



            The episode cost me a towing charge to the Toyota dealership, but I didn’t mind that since it needed to have the “fix” installed anyway. 



            That’s the only time I’ve ever been stopped and yet managed to avoid a ticket.  Thank you, Mr. Toyoda.” 





Just a note:  It is inevitable that somebody will criticize me for using a tragic situation with Toyota in a jesting manner.  I realize that a number of people have been killed and that such a terrible defect should be taken seriously.  Please lighten up and regard this as an example of “gallows humor,” which is defined as “comedy that makes light of death or other very serious matters.”  We have two Toyotas and they are great cars.  Fortunately, both are older vehicles and not subject to the sudden acceleration menace.  I wish Toyota and its customers only the best.



If anybody is thinking of trying this, get some help quickly.  You could be killed or kill somebody else.  Pay the ticket and don’t speed in the future. 




Comments:
 
Rob5679   Rob5679 wrote
on 3/19/2010 3:52:15 PM
Mr Camp, that was outstanding! You could do without the appologies at the end. Trust me, no-one would hold this against you. It did show your sensative side though and now I'll probably get some grief from my wife. See what you've done? Great stuff Elton.

Elton4562
Short Story
Comedy
writing Elton4562

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I had a sudden inspiration.
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