"Obama's An Idiot" is where my political bitches now live. Go ye thereto and read.

Friday, July 29, 2005

Monte

From courttv.com:
June 16, 2005
Drunken man tries to ride lawn mower to grocery store

Late-night cravings are nothing unusual, but Joseph Mundy's munchies landed him in trouble.

The Ohio man was arrested and charged with DUI after attempting to ride his lawn mower to the grocery store.

According to Delhi Township Police Lieutenant Richard Ideker, Mundy, 23, and a friend had allegedly been drinking. At about 3 a.m., they decided that they were hungry and planned a trip to a local grocery store.

Mundy, who had a suspended license, drove the lawn mower without headlights and almost collided with a police vehicle patrolling the area.

The officer conducted a field sobriety test, which both men failed, Ideker said. Mundy reportedly told the officer that he was heading for the store because he had the munchies.

Mundy was taken to the police station, where his blood-alcohol level was recorded at .189. The legal limit in Ohio is .08.

The suspect was charged with driving under suspension and operating a vehicle under the influence of alcohol. He was cited and released, while his lawn mower was impounded. His friend was not charged.
Yeah, I know. This is not all that recent. But whilst perusing these, I stumbled upon the story and it reminded me of Monte.
I've mentioned Monte to a few people before, but I'll go ahead and write a post on it. What the hell.

Fresh out of high school, I worked at a small service station. You may remember those, where you would pull up to the pump and someone would pump your gas, clean your windshield and check your oil for you.

I worked in the back of the station as a tire man.
There were four of us tire guys working in the back, along with one mechanic, and every now and then, when the fuel delivery guys had a break from deliveries, they would help us out.
We repaired and sold tires of all sizes, from car and truck tires to tires for semis, tractors and even underground mining equipment.

In the front of the station, were the owner, a highway patrolman who worked part time to supplement his income, and Monte. These guys waited on you when you pulled up to the pump.
All three front men spent most of the day sitting around bullshitting amongst themselves, or with any of the townfolk who happened by for service, gas, or just to talk a spell.
There was no local store with a pot belly stove in the middle of the floor with the checkerboard sitting on a cracker barrel, there was "Tracy's". This was the place where the menfolk came to chat, bond, gossip, whatever you want to classify it as.

But when a customer pulled up to the pump interrupting their 'conversation', one of them would go outside and wait on the customer.
There was a pecking order involved though. The part-timer always had to go out first, of course because Monte was "old, and tired", unless another car pulled up at the same time. Then Monte would go out. It really goes without saying that the owner would be last in line to wait on a customer unless he knew them real well or wanted to talk to them personally.

Anyway, Monte was a serious alcoholic. He had spent many a night in jail. He was the town's version of 'Otis Campbell' (Mayberry).
Monte was a farmer, living a short 3 or 4 blocks from the gas station. He would drive to work every day to supplement his farming income, and park his station wagon out front near the main drag going through town. He would work all day, then head home to work on his farm, or head to the bar after work, especially on payday. After the bar, he would then head home to the farm.
That is, unless a deputy saw him leave the bar. He would then get to spend the night, a few days or even more in jail. The next morning, after he had slept it off, he would raise such a rucous they would kick him out.
He was known for such antics as taking off his jail shirt to stuff in the toilet, then flush repeatedly until his cell was sufficiently flooded that the jailer would open his cell and send him home so they could clean it up.
Of course, he would always have a job at the station when he got out.

But Monte would lose his license on regular basis, eventually gain it back only to lose it again.
Keep in mind this was a small town, before drunk driving became such a major issue, and all sorts of laws were put in place. At the time, it was much easier to pay your penance, spend the night in the lockup, whatever, and you could get your license back. If you even lost it, that is. Cops were just as likely to let you spend the night in jail for your own safety or someone else's, then let you go the next day.

For those of you unfamiliar with rural ordinances, you don't need a license to drive a tractor on the road. In fact, there isn't even an age restriction. If you're physically able to operate the tractor, you can drive it on public roads or highways. See where this is going?

Well, we could always tell when Monte had lost his license again. Instead of the station wagon being parked out front, there would be a tractor in its place.

As we would get to work, and even for several years after I left that job, we would see the tractor parked out there and say "Looks like Monte lost his license again."

2 comments:

As always... Rachael said...

I thoroughly enjoyed that story. I have known an Otis or two in my day as well! I feel bad for such serious alcoholics...

curmudgeon said...

Well, thank you Rachael, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

I hope you'll enjoy more of the stories I relate, as much as I have enjoyed yours, even if I don't comment that much!