Welcome to Holden. Population: weeds, trash, dirt, maybe a farmer or 2. Located in the wastelands of Utah. I drive past this charming little...plot of land...on every trip to Southern Utah, Vegas, or California. I smile for my name's sake.
Last week, whilst driving back from San Diego, on the final homestretch of the 11-hour journey, I was pulled over. The Po-Po. The Heat. The 5-0. The Fuzz. (That one's for you, Annie.) They got me. First time I've been pulled over since the week I got my license when I was 15, and a ginger version of Hitler asked for my registration and I gave him a receipt for a car tune-up.
But I wasn't even mad. Why? Because I was pulled over in Holden. I was too impressed by the irony to be bothered.
i hope victor doesn't see this post. he loves the fuzz.
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