Trooper Robert Bell shared this story of true romance at a very tender age in the Southeast:
Bell was headed out to the interstate highway through a small town when he noticed a classic car whipping by at a high rate of speed. It was a ’64 Buick in mint condition. Radar revealed the vehicle was traveling at fifty miles per hour—over the speed limit.
When Bell closed in on the Buick, the speeder acted as if he might force a chase, but then he abruptly pulled over. Bell approached the idling Buick carefully. When he got to the window, he saw that the driver was an elderly man who appeared to be quite agitated.
“Sir,” the trooper said, “were you aware that you were doing eighty-five in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone?”
“Of course I know how fast I’m going,” the driver snapped. “It’s an emergency!”
Concerned, the officer asked, “Is it a medical emergency, sir? I can get you to a hospital.”
The driver’s face reddened. “No, I have to go now. It’s an emergency!”
“What’s the emergency, sir? Maybe I can help you.”
The old gentleman just looked angrier than ever. “I can’t tell you. You’ll laugh at me.”
Bell tried to reassure him. “I won’t laugh at you, sir. But if you don’t tell me what the emergency is, I’ll have to write you a ticket.”
The senior speedster finally relented. “You promise not to laugh—man to man?” He was very serious.
“No, sir,” Bell said. “I promise.”
“Well, son, I’m eighty-two years old, and I haven’t had an erec-uh . . . well, I haven’t been ‘in the mood for love’ for more than two years now. Well, I have an—uh, I’m in the mood right now, and I’m on my way to my girlfriend’s house!”
Bell was stunned, but only for a moment. “I had never heard that excuse for speeding before and—man to man—well, I had to empathize just a little. So I gave him a police escort.”