We were topping off the gas tank in town when a "revenue collector" pulled in beside us 5 miles from our destination...I knew the guy, and he was just touching base...I hadn't run into him in over a year...
The revenue collector did his customary (in plain sight look) as he approached...(What a goofball
Must be genetic... 
)He asked me what I had in the "big bad black pelican case" in the back of the truckbed...Along with a couple of .50 cal ammo boxes beside it...
I told him I am a Bassoonist now...
He kinda snorted a bit and looked at me like "Yeah, right"...I think he was a little jealous...Hehehe, he knows me too well...
All in all, no harm no foul, told me he hopes I get a chance to kill some of those dirn feral pigs running around the county...hehehe
Some may give me grief about fibbing, but hey, if I had to open it up and let them see (very unlikely), I'd probably say, "Now how the heck did I grab the wrong case!!!"
Good thing my Dad's girlfriend is the JP in that county...I know for a fact, out of spite, she'd throw me in the pokey in a heartbeat, and then take the wife to lunch and leave me in the tank...
Just thought I would relate a funny from last weekend...
