Toms nickname is Dewey. Guess why? He’s lost his license more than once.

But I blame the taxi companies. After skipping out on too many fares. He’d tell the driver he lived a block over from here, then when the car slowed, he’d jump out and run through backyards. So they’ve all blacklisted him and will refuse service. I mean, if he’s going out, he’s at a bar hitting the bottle hard. It’s gonna happen. Trouble is, he’s gotta get his car home somehow.

Due to his driving under the influence on so many occasions, he’s gotten to know the Edina PD pretty well. They see that Jeep a-swervin’ and White Snake blarin’…they know who it is. Everytime its, “Tom, you know what I have to do, right?” and they give him another citation. 

However, because he donates such large amounts of money to the police fund, he gets off with a warning each time. Last Thursday, he got into it with one of the police and told the guy, “Frankie, I’m practically putting your kid through college!” That night wound up to be something of a standoff between him and the Sheriff’s Deputies in our front yard. He kept yelling for the Sheriff, “I ain’t talking to nobody until Jack gets here.” Jack and Tom go way back because of Toms frequent run ins with the law. 

At least they’ve been nice enough to not make us all put whiskey plates on our cars.