Bountyman

Originally Posted by Bountyman

This morning I woke up with a heavy Subway jones. The Cold Cut Combo; Italian bread, provolone cheese, everything on it (no cucumbers, no olives, double the jalapeños). Before diabetes I ate the foot long. Since diabetes I eat the six inch. No side stuff, no sweet drink. But that's okay because I only do this once in awhile. I fire up my motorcycle and head for town.

I've got an Accu-Chek Compact Plus that stays in my leather jacket. Should there be a time that I want to check my BG when I'm out...I have it with me. The thing I like about it is it's got the lancet device attached to it and the strips are inside the meter in a drum. If I only had one hand I could use this meter. Well, if I only had one hand I couldn't test the hand I was holding the meter with...but you get the idea. Now this meter works by just a slight movement of a button on its face. When you move the button it spits out a strip and beeps...whether it's intentional...or not.

I pull up to a stoplight in town, kick it into neutral, because this is one of those l o n g stop lights and start thinking about building my sandwich and how it's going to make me feel like I just had sex after the last bite goes down. Thinking about buying the sandwich...I question myself as to whether I remembered to bring my wallet. I let go of the throttle and feel my jacket pocket and the dang meter goes off. I figure, what the heck, why waste a test strip so I pull out the meter, cock the lancet device, prick my thumb and test the blood. 5 seconds later the results pop up on the meter and I end up waiving it around in front of my face trying to read the numbers. Can't read 'em, too much sun, so I just eject the strip, stick the meter back in my jacket...and the light turns green.

As I cross the street a sheriff's car lights me up. Nuthin' new, these guys light you up just hoping things aren't right with you. I pull over next to the curb, shut it off, kickstand down and start gettin' out my license, registration, and proof of insurance. I'm hoping this guy asks me if I know why he pulled me over...because my usual answer when they do this is, "...because you thought I had donuts in my saddlebags?" Not the case this time. He walks up, stops an arms distance away and says, "You know, you can't talk on a cell phone and drive in California anymore." What? "WHAT?" "You cannot talk on a cell phone in California anymore." "Yeah, okay, I got that. Where do you get me talking on a cell phone? I don't own a cell phone!" "I saw you talking or texting on a cell phone when you were at the stoplight...I was right behind you." "No, no! Listen, I'm goin' into my jacket pocket and pulling out what I had in my hand. Please...don't shoot me, okay?!" "Okay."

I pull out my trusty Accu-Chek Compact Plus meter and hold it out in front of him. "What is that?", he asks. "It's a blood glucose testing meter. I use it to test my blood sugars. I'm diabetic." "You can't talk on it?", he asks. "No."...and I hand it to him. He looks at it for a second and then hands it back. "What were you doing with it while you were waiting for the light to change?" I explain to him how it went off in my pocket and since the test strips are about $1 a pop...I decided to go ahead and test. He looks at me for a second then says, "Okay then, I'll have to give you a ticket for "testing while driving". It's the same fine as "texting while driving". "No WAY! You're kiddin' me, right?" There's a long pause while we look each other in the eye...and he says, "Yeah...I'm f*ckin' with ya'! Nice Harley!"...walks off, gets back in his unit and drives away.

Okay...fair enough. July 15th, 2012; Cops 1 - Bountyman 0.