Last leg of the 50CC complete and Melissa flashes hot cop

There you go then.

The 50CC is in, officially. Well, not officially, I guess, as the Iron Butt Association (queue the chorus) needs to sanctify the ride but either way, we made it coast-to-coast, San Jose, Caleeeeforn-I-A to Jacksonville, Flo Rida in just under 48 hours and 30 minutes.

Yes, we're proud of ourselves. And we're tired.

One of the criteria for the successful completion of the 50CC ride is a witness, or three depending, to verify that you are who you are, that the motorcycle is indeed the motorcycle in question, that the odometer shows the reading you'll provide to the Iron Butt Association. If you can get a law enforcement officer to witness for you ("Can I get a hallelujah?"), the 50CC needs just that person's information and badge number. If you can't, you need three, which is what we did when we started this motorcycle lark in Ocean Beach.

We decided to enlist the help of one of Jacksonville's finest.

First, Jacksonville, Florida is hot, like sweltering, even in the morning. My lady, Ms. Hurricane, is in black, spaghetti-strap tank top, appropriately emblazoned white with a dia de los muertos skull and roses. She calls the police station, we're parked in front of the station, incidentally, and a tall, full-head-of-dark-haired hunk of gorgeousness in blue uniform, pulls up in his car, steps out.

Melissa unzips her coat, revealing the girls.

I can't blame her. It's been a long trip.

Officer Williams shakes my hand.

I cup his left buttock with my right hand and squeeze.

I didn't.

Really.

But I thought about it.

Melissa captures a pic of Officer Williams and me and tags it for Facebook as hot cop and husband.

Some quick thoughts on Jacksonville (other than the stifling humidity and heat):

Everyone is nice here. What the hell? We're from California. What's with these southern niceties? We ate breakfast outside at a diner and younger boy, maybe ten, asked if he could use one of our unused table's chairs. Of course. He pulls it to the table next to us and his grandma tells him, "You need to say thank you." Unbelievable. What are they teaching these children? Now, go cook me some grits, old lady, and happy Mother's Day.

What else?

Oh, Jacksonville is hosting a big crossfit competition and there's a parade of built young men and women strutting around in short shorts and tight shirts, a veritable bicep-, boob- and booty-fest. Now, why you'd want to have a competition in this heat... I don't know. Maybe they can feed the dehydrated corpses, aka, losers, to some of the critters at the zoo.