I made an admittedly amateur shopping mistake earlier this week: falling in love with an item, and then stupidly deciding to come back later for it. Seeing as how I have impeccable taste, said item was unsurprisingly gone four hours later. (I’m not going to tell you what the item was, as it is much too early in our budding blogger-reader relationship for you to realize that I do not, in fact, have impeccable taste, but instead think that polka dots go great on everything and that armwarmers are an acceptable fashion accessory.) This resulted in a tumultuous three days of unsuccessful-buyer’s-remorse angst and multiple visitations of several branches of the same store. Against all odds, the shopping gods decided to reward my fervent dedication and blind faith, and sent down from the heavens my object of desire, sitting atop the store shelf in all its plaid glory. I’m definitely not implying that the way to get what you want is to be a obsessive materialistic bitch (although it does help); all I’m saying is that stealing from cops is probably not the way to go, even if the coveted possession happens to be a mannequin dressed up in a police uniform.
This is Trevor in happier times.
[photo: foxnews.com]
If found, please return to Lacey police so that he can fulfill his life purpose of sitting quietly in a cop car as he watches motorists pass him by while driving over the speed limit.
