A case of mistaken identity

How much fun did we have at Chadbourn’s Restaurant Saturday night? More fun than a barrel of pickles. The place was packed. People were eating fried clams and fries and roast beef and veggie burgers – all kinds of hearty Yankee fare. I saw some desserts go out that looked like giant Devil Dogs. Luckily I was too busy emceeing with raconteur restaurateur  Bob Chadbourn to scarf one of those down. We told stories for an hour and a half as people, many from town, enjoyed classic Chadbourn cuisine.

It was even more lucky that we all wore our high rubber boots, because the lies were flying every which way and piling up on the floor.  But, as always, the best stories were the true ones.

A former state trooper told this true story of his rookiest of rookie days. He was out patrolling, one of his first patrols, got onto some back roads off back roads, and he came upon a cabin afire. The smoke was just billowing out the top of it. He called in the alarm: “I don’t know exactly where I am, but send back-up,” something to that effect. Then he popped the trunk, pulled out a massive fire extinguisher, kicked in the door of the cottage, and proceeded to spray everything in sight with the powdery white fire retardant.

When the extinguisher extinguished itself and the dust settled, he surveyed the scene: Two old guys sitting on a bench, all white, making small coughing sounds.  They regarded him balefully.

The cottage wasn’t a cottage at all. It was a sap house.

Comments

[Chris Nelson]

This one is a beauty, Becky! I told it to a few people after you told it to me and lo and behold it's here for anyone to see.

I love your stories.

[rebecca Rule]

Thanks, Chris. It's a fun story to tell. People don't see a thing funny in it until two beats after the punch line. And the best part is it's true.
Onward.
Becky

[Sally MacEachern]

I laughed out loud. Really cheered up Monday.

[amy]

Becky,
I agree. This is one of the funniest! And I've retold it, too.