Today I have the driving test. I need to change my underpants because who knows, the tester may be disgusting like the tester in my last test. After I tried several times to move the car and failed he said "Madam, I'm afraid you have a restless leg syndrome. Let me try to help you." and then he put his hand on my knee.
I was sure at that point that I will pass the test. After all, none of my previous testers were as friendly to me as he was, but then we had the accident with the dog. I saw the dog crossing the street right in front of us and I tried to brake, but the tester's hand which was slightly above my knee on its way north prevented me from lifting my leg and braking. This is why I ran over the poor dog. Needless to say, neither the tester nor the cop who showed up soon after, liked it, and the cop gave me a ticket even though I tried to explain to him that it was not exactly my fault. I even tried to challenge him to try driving with my hand on his knee so he could see how tough it is, to which he responded very enthusiastically. Still, he insisted on giving me the ticket and promised me that with my qualifications I will undoubtedly succeed to convince the judge of my innocence.
"Innocence?" I said "Sir, I am not as innocent as I look. I was not born yesterday even though this anti-aging cream makes me look like I was. I have already used all the money that I made last night on driving lessons and I can't afford to pay any fines."
but even this did not move him. All he wanted to do was drive with my hand on his knee.
We began driving towards the beach when suddenly I felt his hand on my chest.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing" he said "just checking your pulse to make sure that you are not overly excited."
"And why should I be excited?" I asked.
"Some people are," he said. "Better be safe than sorry."
We continued to drive when suddenly he said "Oh, oh, your pulse rate is too high. This may be due to breathing difficulties. Let me help you." and he started unbuttoning my shirt.
"Feeling better now?" he asked.
"A little bit" I said.
"Good, but we can do better than that," he said and unhooked my bra.
This really improved my breathing but then I noticed that he is getting overly excited. He began breathing heavily and there was a swelling in his pants.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
He breathed so heavily he could barely answer but then he opened his fly and pulled out something that looked like a hot dog.
"What is this?" I asked "a hot dog?"
My question pleased him and he smiled.
"Yes, it's a hot dog," he said.
"Are you hungry?" I asked him.
"I am hungry for you" he said.
"Then let's find something real to eat instead of this lousy hot dog," I suggested.
"Whatever you say," he apparently was offended by my comment about his hot dog.
Right then I spotted a Dunkin Donuts sign in front of us and I told him
"See, I already found for you a place to eat."
We stopped at the Dunkin Donuts and he swallowed a dozen donuts right there. After that he could barely move and we drove back to my home. He moved in with me right away and declared that he wants to marry me. I had no objection - in my line of work it's good to have connections with the police, but after a while he started to get on my nerves, if you know what I mean. Every day he was testing me, pulling that thing from his pants and asking
"What is this?"
and only after I answered "Hot dog" did he leave me alone.
Finally the wedding day came. In the evening before it he decided to test me again. He pulled that thing from his pants and asked
"What is this?"
"It's a hot dog" I answered, but then he said
"No, now that we are going to get married it's time that you know the truth. This is not a hot dog. This is a penis."
"What?" I laughed "you call this a penis? A penis should be long and thick. This is not a penis. This is a hot dog."