Across Arkansas in Our Bras

Well, my friend Jessica and I were driving from Oklahoma City to Franklin as the last leg of a longish trip, and we were getting a bit restive (and peevish, if you must know).   Anyway, we were approaching Arkansas, easily the most boring state of the fifty!  I mean like turbo-boringgggg!

We talked about dares.  Jessica dared me to drive across Arkansas t-shirtless, just in my bra.  To egg me on, she took off her t-shirt.  Now I wasn't going to chicken out, so I peeled mine off too.  We flung them in the back seat, vowing not to put them back on until we had reached Memphis.  We figured we could do it, if we didn't require pee stops, so the dare was on!

We were making good time, past Russellville, Conway, and places never to be seen unless magnetic forces draw us off the interstate.  However, bad news!  An Arkansas State Trooper started to follow us, and OH SHIT!  He had is light on!

No way of shaking him, so I pulled over.

Here this state trooper sauntered over to the car, determined to enforce the laws of Arkansas as he was sworn to do and issue a citation.  Only to find two women in dressed in shorts and only their bras.

He asked, "What's going on?"

I explained that we had a dare going on, they we were planning to drive across Arkansas without our t-shirts.  For some reason or other, it made cosmic sense to him.

"You're bored, aren't you""

I had to agree that I was.

"Well, I won't write you up for speeding; but keep under the speed limit until you're Tennessee's problem."  His facial expression might be described as a s**t-eating grin.

He was as good as his word.  He let us go with a warning, and a comment.

"That's a nice shade of pink bra you're wearing!"