There's a town on State Route 36, in Ohio called St. Paris. Diane calls it Evil St. Paris. If you drove through late at night, unless somebody else was pulled over, you were getting pulled over. My friend James and I would go frogging at some really good ponds on the other side and come back through at around 2:30am. We always got pulled over, until James put veteran plates on his van, like I suggested. The last time we got pulled over, I asked the cop why he stopped us, he quickly said don't worry you're not getting a ticket. When I insisted he tell us why, he got flustered and said "You have a tail light out or something." I said show me and started to get out. He said stay in and get out of here. When we got back to James's farm, all the tail lights worked.
Years apart, both of my grandmothers died in Troy, on the far side of St. Paris. I got stopped twice coming back from visiting each of them, taking the late death watch. Diane yelled at the cop the last two times.
When I had my security company, several of my most incompetent guards worked for St. Paris. We paid them almost $3.00 an hour higher than St. Paris did. I think St. Paris paid $5.40 an hour. They worked there to keep their police certifications opened, while they tried to get a job with a better small department. In Ohio, your certification expires after graduation, if you don't work for a licensed police department at least once every 6 months.
I hate St. Paris.
Keith
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