I went off roading yesterday and massively grudge fucked Smurfette, my truck. Power slides, small jumps, and a bit of pothole bingo had her feeling a little rough around the edges. Fast driving on logging roads has a wonderful way of clearing the mind. All extraneous thoughts evaporate when you’re tightly focused on sliding through turns and avoiding monster chuckholes, not to mention oncoming logging trucks(!). When I went out this morning and noticed her right rear paw was totally flat, my plans for the morning went right out the window. Normally I’d squirt in a can of fix-a-flat and call it good. I kept a tire going for almost 2 years that way once. I’m driving to Reno in a couple of days (to Compression), so I figured I’d seek professional help. On looking at the tread wear I realized that I truly needed new tires. I left a note for Sweetpea letting her know where I was going and also wrote, five times, “I will not go shopping at Goodwill.” No shit, I really did write that. So I headed in and dropped off Smurfette for her new shoes ($300 for two plain vanilla tires!). While the tires were being installed I walked down the street to the malt shoppe and had breakfast, passed by Goodwill both ways. Afterward, I picked up the truck and was on my way to the hardware store when I realized I had nothing to wear with either my fur or Mad-Maxian coats! Ripped t-shirts and scrubs just won’t work with them. (Sweetpea disagrees on the scrubs.) I wondered if writing “I will not shop at Goodwill” five more times would have prevented me from realizing the fact. Probably not.

I made my stop and scored some amazing shit. Mostly spandex sports shirts. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find shirts without huge logos or other advertisements on them? Damned near impossible. On my way to the register I told myself I wouldn’t browse the ladies sportswear racks for any more sweats, either. Ha! I found another killer pair of Nike’s with cute trim on the lower legs and a Kappa jacket with male & female silhouettes running down one arm. Their price tags even matched the color of the day so I got them for 50% off! Destiny. I headed home very pleased with myself and my finds. I didn’t even realize I was in a 25 MPH zone when I saw the pretty lights behind me. I noticed I was doing 45 MPH! This was turning into an expensive day…

I pulled over and looked in the rear-view mirror and was pleasantly surprised on seeing a female sheriff’s deputy. Cute as a button and walking taller than her 5′ 5″ frame should have allowed. She walked up to the window and I was completely smitten. Though not deployed, she had the cutest little dimples I’d ever seen. Man, I had to figure out a way to bring em out! I also noted her body armor. Oh My God! You’d swear they’d done a custom layup like a cast on her. They fit each other VERY well. I’m not being chauvinistic, I’m just stating the facts. The authority with which she carried herself had every bit as much to do with my overall impression as her face and body did. You could tell she takes excellent care of herself, not out of vanity but out of pride and duty. I gave her my papers and she went back to her vehicle to call it all in. I racked my mind trying to think of who made her vest. It was a female vest specifically made to fit a woman’s contours without masculinizing or flattening the chest. Hmm, that narrowed the field a bit. When I saw her heading back, I decided on Second-Chance as the maker. When she again approached my window I managed to get it out. “Deputy? I noticed your Second-Chance armor. Not many officers care to spend that kind of money on body armor. They sure know how to make a nice fitting vest, don’t they?” Bulls eye! Instant dimple deployment WITH a side of blush! She smiled and looked down a moment. When she looked at me once more I could see a goodly bit of humanity shining through. I asked her if her spouse bought it for her. She replied that she bought it herself. I complimented her on it and told her that I own a Second-Chance and that my wife bought it for me because she wanted to protect her investment with the best vest that money could buy (True except Sweetpea found it in a dumpster..). She nodded her approval and asked if I had a trauma plate. No, I don’t. She recommended looking for a plate on eBay and that they’re only about 25 bucks for an alloy steel one… Mrreow, Hot!

When she asked me if I was aware that I was doing 47 in a 25 zone I told her I wasn’t going to waste her time denying it. By her reaction I guessed that’s not a common response. She wondered what the big rush was so I told her I’d just been clothes shopping for Burning Man (amongst other things). Her face lit up like a thousand watt spotlight. She’d been to Burning Man for her first time last year! Yay! I told her it would be my first time and that I was so excited just having scored some more killer clothes for my outfits. By this point things were starting to look up for me and I got all chatty and excited. I asked if she wanted to see what I got and she said “Yes!” I decided to pull out the trump card, the brown Nike nylon shell sweats with big pink strips, not stripes, from mid-calf down to the ankles. She loved them and said her partner had a pair just like them to which I replied that I rather doubted it and where was he anyways? She giggled (yes, it was a really was a giggle and it pushed my cute-o-meter into the red zone) and said SHE was probably picking up THEIR kids from school right about then. I already thought she was super cool and this totally confirmed it! She told me she thought I’d look great in them. I blushed bright red, and she showed no mercy… She pointed out my blush and told me not to worry, there’s no reason to be embarrassed about with wearing them. Puhleeze! I was blushing because a beautiful woman of the law was saying I’d look great in them! I kinda already knew I did, having tried em on in the dressing room at the store, much to the consternation of the employees in the little hick town where the store was. I went through the rest of my scores and she regaled me with stories of her first year at the burn. She asked me where I’d be camping and had actually been to Terminal City! It was turning into a total roadside love-fest, whee! I asked her how long her and her partner had been together. 14 years, same as me and Sweetpea have been married. Hot damn! We ended up showing each other photos of our wives, telling how we met, etc. (I met Sgt Sweetpea on a military firing range, Deputy Delicious met hers at a Blazers game.) I showed her my shoulder armor (Loved It!), my riot shield, and my fur coat. Glad I hadn’t taken them out of the truck. After another 10 minutes of gabbing, she got a call, dammit, that was was evidently more important than our majorly significant conversation. She told me that the next time I go shopping I should slow down a bit on the way home or risk wrapping my hot little ass around a pole and not make it out to the desert. She didn’t actually say the ‘hot little’ part, but I knew she wanted to. (Indulge me…)

As she headed back to her vehicle, I asked where she’d be camped this year. She yelled back, “9 & F! Stop by for a drink!”. I normally don’t drink but I’m gonna make an exception this August. I really hope to meet her and her partner out there. She rates a very special gift. Perhaps a vial of some garnets I dredged out of the Rogue river last mining season. I titled this post with the word flattering, but make no mistake, I meant every compliment I gave her. What a jewel! I sure wish we had more deputies like her out there, sigh…

When I got home I told Sweetpea all about my big adventure. She did get a bit jealous when I told her the whole ‘Deputy Delicious’ story, heh heh. That was nothing compared to when she saw the clothes. “You always find the best clothes!” Yes, yes I do. She pointed out the size tag on what is my favorite shirt of the lot. Size 16-18. Now I know my size for Nike golf shirts. If it feels good, wear it! Nike makes some pretty comfy sweats, too.