No Laughing Matter
A few months ago I was pulled over for speeding. I’d actually seen the cruiser lying in wait, but purposely didn’t slow down, because I figured that would signal a guilty conscience. The first time I was ever pulled over—at age 16—was for going TOO SLOW in the fast lane. I’d seen the cop behind me and froze. So this time I deliberately maintained the speed I’d been going, which was only slightly above the posted limit of 40 (what, did you think I was a speed demon?!)
I paid my fine and quickly signed up for traffic school in hopes of keeping the infraction off my record. I was thrilled to learn I could do the course online. No sitting in a stuffy classroom for eight hours. I could do it on my lunch hour (several lunch hours, it turned out).
Faced with many options of online traffic schools, I selected one of several “COMEDY SCHOOL” options. Because if you have to take traffic school, you might as well laugh, right? That pretty much sums up my attitude about everything. I’d be a huge proponent of COMEDY DENTISTRY if such a thing existed; I’d love a root canal with punch lines! I have a doctor who laughs like Arnold Horshack (”Welcome Back, Kotter” anyone?) and I purposely try to make him laugh every visit, because it cracks me up to hear him “aaarrrrhhh-haaa-arrrhhh-haaa.” Going to the doctor becomes a laugh riot and I forget all about the underlying reasons for my visit.
Not so for Online Comedy Traffic School. The only thing that differentiated comedy traffic school from its non-comedic cousins is that every so often, interspersed between drunk driving statistics and road sign illustrations were puns like: “I know a fellow who put a beard on his Ford and told everybody it was a Lincoln.” [Insert drum roll here.]
Maybe I was too optimistic, thinking online traffic school held any comic potential whatsoever. Maybe had I gone in person, to a real live comedy traffic school, I’d have gotten a few yuks with my remedial driving tips. Then again, I can’t imagine the instructors are actually trained comedians. Does Carlos Mencia moonlight on the traffic school circuit? And I bet they don’t serve watered down drinks and stale peanuts, either.
But I haven’t completely abandoned my ”if you have to do ____, it might as well be funny” philosophy of life. It’s almost time for my annual pap smear. Anyone know a funny gynecologist?
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