When I had a column in Wilderness Trails & Tales, the editor/owner gave me magnetic signs for the paper and I slapped them on my sporty, 77, two-door, Buick LeSabre. One Friday when I arrived at the Fredericton Motel to attend the rule reading and breifing for the next days bass tournament, Greg introduced me to the sports writer for a New Brunswick paper. She was a real looker. She was shadowing Greg and us other officials through a complete two day bass tournament to write about it later. A little later in the evening she saw my car, with the signs and assumed it belonged to Greg, she was outspoken and told Greg she thought those signs were a bit tacky on such a nice car. I was present at the time and Greg told her it wasn't his car, but mine. She turned a little red, and apoligized to me. I tried to look a little hurt,and told her I would get her back for that one.,just joking. Most of the evening, most of the males swarmed around this lady.
About four-thirty in the morning I left my motel room, a bit hungover,to get to the tournament that began at Sunrise. As I got to my car, I realized I had locked the keys inside, the previous evening. I was still cursing myself, when along came the sexy sportswriter. I told her my dilemma , and she offered me a drive to Mactaquac. She apoligized again ,more than once ,on the way to the Marina , I joked again and said I'll figure a way to get you back. She laughed. We arrived just as the Sun came over the horizon, she pulled up right in front of the half dozen or so officials, my buddys. Before we got out of the car, I told her,"" I think I got you!", She said, "What do you mean?" I answered, " By the smirks on their faces, I can tell, these guys think you and I slept together last night!"

CC #17 True story by yours truly!