Nola told a gross story on her blog and it made me think of one:
When I was 14 or so, I went with a group of friends to a concert at the UNO arena. I think it was Candlebox, which seems really funny now. Anyway, my friend’s boyfriend was driving us home when two of the girls in the car had to pee. There was NOWHERE to stop because we were in that dead zone past New Orleans east but not quite to the Twin Span. So he pulled over on the side of the road and let them pee. Being the eternal gentleman that he is, he took off his shirt so they wouldn’t have to drip-dry in the tall grass and risk getting bitten by something weird. The shirt was then tossed way up onto the dash and he continued driving us home topless.
A few minutes later, he got pulled over for speeding. The cop, upon approaching the car, snapped at him. “Boy! Don’t you have a shirt?”
“Uhhh, yeah. I do.”
“Put it on! I don’t wanna stand here and look at your dumb-ass half naked!”
And Scoot, without any argument, put on the pee-shirt. And everyone in the car winced. And kept quiet.
He’s still quite the gentleman, though hopefully there haven’t been any more incidents like THAT one. He does have kids, though. So who knows.