The Bearded Lady

"Whoa! That one's doin' 70 in a 45! You gonna stop them?"

I hit the lights, slam on the breaks and roll in behind a tattered, gold sedan. The car rattles and rolls to a stop in front of me as my Field Training Officer (FTO) activates the body mic and hands it to me from the passenger seat. I step out of my patrol car and saunter up to the driver's window.

What the hell? I think to myself as I stutter through my greeting.

"Hello, I'm Officer...umm do you have a driver's license and insurance, si...ma'am!?" Her driver's license verifies she's a woman.

It's a woman?! I think as I stare at the blonde, wiry skirt of hair running wild and free down the cheeks and jaw of this five-foot-three inches tall, 200 pound speciman.

"I'm late for my hysterectomy!" Her passenger, which I'm just now noticing, shouts.

"Do you have I.D., ma'am? Thank you I'll be right back."

I back away slowly, watching the driver as I trace my way back down the white line marking the shoulder of the roadway.

"Check Complete" I say into my radio while I begin to scribble out a ticket for speeding.

Just as I'm finished with my ticket the dispatchers voice crackles through the air, "Warrant Confirmation in hand on that subject." she says.

I gather myself and walk back to the driver's side window. "Ma'am I gonna need you to step out of your vehicle." I say to the woman in the driver's seat. She clenches her jaw tight, reaches beneath her seat..."PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" I yell and step back starting to draw my handgun. "No, my door doesn't work, I'm going to have to move the seat back and climb out the window." She explains, as she slides herself back to give her sweat-stained, yellowed white t-shirt some room to move. She grips the door and begins to hoist her hairy frame from her seat. Her left leg, then her fur lined butt-crack, followed by her right leg squeeze out the window and spill onto the pavement.

"Umm, do you have any shoes?" I ask in a confused chuckle.

"Yep, they're in the back seat."

"Ok, I'll have your passenger bring them to the back of the car."

Suddenly the passenger door swings open and a thick Texas accent jumps out screaming. "You've got to be #$@! KIDDIN' ME! I've got a hysterectomy in twenty-#@$!-minutes!" She shouts.

"Take my car!" My ewokish captive shouts back as I struggle to force her giant wrists into handcuffs on the roadside before stuffing her into the back of my car.

As I watch the hysterectomy bound woman Dukes of Hazzard her way into the driver's seat and ease the vehicle back onto the roadway I hear a rough voice eek out from behind me, "Officer, she's got my shoes still."

If you've you've ever considered laser hair removal check out the links in the sidebar!