So we'd just finished up a motorpacing session. Mark rolled the stop sign at the Bartonville store. I pretty much rolled it, but I did put my feet down.
Since we were done with the ride, I told Mark that I'd motor ahead to turn on the (insert sound of trumpets) coffee machine. Just as I slam the scooter into second gear I hear the siren, which makes me look in the mirror to see the lights. I was already a good something yards ahead of Mark, and the Sheriff was stopping behind him. Figuring I was being pulled over too, I went on up to the next driveway, as there was no shoulder and no real good way to move over and submit to the Popo. And I was sort of hoping that he was just pulling over Mark, because I did put my feet down.
Mark kisses ass. Gets a warning. The Sheriff tells him that he could write his friend on the moped a ticket too.
It's NOT a moped.
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