Officer Bacon

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Toasty Tramp

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Hitched to a Flying J about 30 miles north of Tampa. Got permission to play the guitar without the case open cause I'm bored and love making people smile, plus stranded til tomorrow so fuck it -- let's relax and have some fun. Manager is out with me tapping her foot and smoking a cig, truckers are congregating, and we're having a good ol time. Swappin stories, crackin jokes, and having some great conversation about the recent train derailings.
This is the shit I set out to find, so I'm REALLY feeling the vibes. Totally in the moment and just happy to be where I am.

Cop pulls in (goddammit) and walks on over like he has something to get off his chest. I'll beat him to it, I think to myself, and just start strumming an open G like crazy while bellowing a long drawn out "BAAAACCCOOOOONNNNNNNNNN" as loud as I can for like 10 seconds straight then went back to some folk sounding fingerpickin action like nothing even happened.

Officer Bacon has douchey aviators on so I can't gauge a reaction, but everybody else is laughing their asses off. His body language reeks of problems that are allllll about to be mine, but he walks past and takes a seat in Danny's. Cool. So I'm not totally fucked :D

Good times continue, then Officer Bacon walks out of the store. I stop playing mid riff cause I CANNOT believe my eyes. Cops carrying a goddamned platter of bacon. A fucking platter of bacon. Puts it next to where I'm sitting, hands me a cig to boot, gives a solid slap on the shoulder, and walks off. Never said a word. Never took off the aviators. Never did nuffin but be the smoothest cop I've ever laid eyes on. He didn't even crack a grin! Everybody is silent and looking at me, and I feel NERVOUS.
This fantastic show of events was cause of me, and I feel obliged to provide a sort of grand finale.

So of course I put the guitar up cause fuck yeah bacon :D Hushed get the fuck outta here's and wtfs are all you can hear. I fill the hole, smoke THE cig, and crack open the first of 6 natty ices a trucker kicked down.

Anticlimactic, yeah, but you just can't top the cop. The good times come to a wrap, and I pack my stuff and take off to find shelter. Florida and it's sporadic storms are kinda pissing me off btw.

Currently posted up in the field by the interstate, drinking away the storm that just struck. Trying to make sense of the world that just turned upside down on me, dunno if I'll be successful.
 
In hindsight, I should've whaled another open G with an even longer howl of BAAAACCCOOOOONNNNNNNNNN. Maybe bust out a freestyle bout cops packin platters of bacon.
I was just too fucking dumbfounded to do anything except chow down. Could've sworn it was a last meal type of gig before Shit Mountain fell into a sea of turbine engines.
 
Challenge: see how many times you can scream bacon after the arival of a cop before you go to jail. The prize? You will be allowed to pass go and roll again.
 
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That's pretty much the coolest fucking not-busking story I've ever heard. Fuck yeah.
 
Yea just goes to show not all cops are assholes. Sure it wasn't a sheriff? Because they tend to be a bit more chill.
Surprising also because florida is notorious for not liking the vagabond types.
 
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