Tuesday, August 24, 2004

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Bad Boys, Bad Boys Whatcha Gonna Do

Sooooo lets talk about cops for a little bit today. Not the hit show where white trash gets chased around their trailer homes and portable swimming pools. Not the best now-in-its-2nd-season show on comedy central. Real, live cops.

I have had some run-ins with cops. now i know they arent going to sound as cool as a lot of your friends' stories, but thats mainly because i grew up in middle america and was sheltered from shit until deep into high school. high school, no wonder they call it that. so my first real cop story takes place back, back, back.... i was probably 14 or so. summer '94. i was on a teen tour of the west coast and remember going into it thinking 'i refuse to make friends with any japs this summer.' thank god i stuck to my guns because i became friends with the queens/brooklyn kids instead.... they were much more entertaining and heady about life. so we go to yellowstone park and after exploring we found this huge bridge overlooking a deep river thing below. kids, adults, people were bridge jumping off this thing and it looked like a hella good time. a bunch of us jumped a few times and ya know, the day ended. the next day, me and just 1 other buddy went back there to do it one more time before we left. so im up there and for some reason today, it looks a lot further than yesterday.... i am standing up there for like 5 minutes and then finally, i jump. as i am crashing down below, i hear whistles coming from all over the place. when i peek my head up from the water, there are cops swarming my vector. oh shit. i done fucked up. this cop was asking me all kinds of questions... i knew i had to lie to the guy, otherwise i would get kicked off this fucking teen tour. so i told him my parents were off hiking somewhere and i was stuck all day swimming. they asked my name, i gave them a fake name. they wrote me a ticket to my fake name, and it was for $25. to a 14 year old on a teen tour, $25 was like a weeks worth. somehow i lied my ass off convincingly enough to the police guy to get the fuck out of there without them following me back to my campsite, where 6 counselors anxiously awaited. from that point on, i knew i could bluff pretty well. to sum it up, i had to figure out a way to get a money order, a stamp, an envelope all while on a tour on a bus without anyone finding out. fun shit.

my next run-in was when i was 19. summer after freshman year at college... so now i officially knew how to drink a lot and party pretty hardcore. since no one else in the entire city of louisville's parents were cool, i hosted a back-to-college party to close out the summer. lots of people showed, lots of people got hammered. someone brought a funnel and of course i was like frank the tank on that bad boy. i remember josh york was like, busby can do 4 beers in this puppy. so they filled 4 beers and busby just downed it. i knew i could do 4, but for some reason my penis got in the way and i had to one-up this chump. so i tell chiu, yo i am gonna do 4 beers and a shot to top it off. so what shot do i choose? absolut mandarin. i step up, and the 4 beers go down like water... no problem.... but then, out of nowhere, a sharp spike of orange vodka caught the back of my throat and left the worst feeling in there..... 4 + 1 down, short dash to the grass, 4+1 straight back up. it was like a fucking hose that you bend to make shoot out projectile style. so later that night, we are on the lawn... i mean the party had yet to be busted and everyone was in back, hardly any noise. 6 of us were saying goodbye to our friend when a cop rolled up the street and stopped. my friend cash had a beer can in his hand, the only one who had anything. he chucks it but obviously too late... the cop asks whose house it is. its mine, sir. he proceeds to take our id's and gets back in his car... then my father rolls up. he goes into the garage and after seeing the cop, proceeds to clean all the beer cans up from inside... clutch move on pop's part. the cop sees him and says why dont we go have a little talk with your dad. there's nothing more buzzkill than being totally wasted with your dad and a cop in the room. the cop is lecturing me on all this shit, but i am so fucked up i am just like smiling and nodding my head and blurting out ridiculous responses.... i was like putting my arm around him trying to argue that since i wasnt driving, wasnt it ok for me to be drinking? i go to college, people drink all the time....at least i wasnt on the road.... obviously the cop was not cool with this. he wrote me and cash a ticket and we had a court date. to make a long story short (or is it even worth it at this point) i had to call in a favor for my uncle to represent me and cash. we werent even in the ville when our trial thing happened.... but i got a phone call that i had to do 10 hours of community service and cash had to do 5-- different judges. so the only reason it all happened in the first place was because cash had a beer, my uncle was the one who did the favor, and i got twice as much shit to do as he did!! fuck that shit, the justice system today is so fucked. :)

finally, i would like to save the best for last. this might be a repeat to some of you, but its still a good one. so me and my buddy opdyke were on a road trip back up to boston to move all his emory shit back after we graduated. summer '02. we grab a uhaul and my plan is to drive up and his parents would fly me back down... we were going to stop to visit people along the way, party it up, and move on towards boston. thinking that we could cover miles like a normal car, we figure we would get to connecticut the 1st night. haha, ya right. driving the uhaul was like fighting a hurricane with a yacht.... this thing got its swerve on. so we realize DC is our first stop and we would probably get there around 9ish... we call up JJ an old buddy and sure enough there is a big party and a bunch of our friends are all going. he gives us directions... highway to pentagon north exit, go over the key bridge, left on blah blah, right into adams morgan neighborhood. so we get into DC in our uhaul truck at around 9:30 pm on a friday night. we take the pentagon south exit and after making a little offramp turn, we realize we are kinda in the parking lot of the pentagon building...central DC. its dark but pretty empty so we kinda roll through this stop sign.... out of nowhere theres cop lights behind us, to the side of us, in front of us cutting us off.... an army jeep with machine guns on top pulls up right to the uhaul. oh. shit! so the army dude goes: roll down your windows and put your hands on the dashboard. done and done. he comes to the window and says: i am going to open these doors, then you are going to get out and follow me. ok.... he says put your hands on the hood of the cruiser. then they go fishing for our IDs. so, what are you two doing at 10 at night driving through the back of the pentagon in a uhaul? (remember, a uhaul was the reason for oklahoma city AND it was less than a year after 9/11) opdyke, ready to piss his pants, is like we are just driving through to visit friends. where are you coming from? we are coming from atlanta... we went to school there. these licenses say kentucky and massachussetes. ya thats where we're from originally. they were holding fucking ak-47s at us during the inquiry... it was really really fucked up. then they ask do you have any guns, knives, bombs, drugs, weapons, anything in the truck? nope, just a bunch of my shit from college. we are going to have to inspect the vehicle...are you sure theres nothing in here you dont want us to find? we're sure sir. anyway, they realized we really were americans and we really were just lost in a uhaul at the pentagon.... so after going through all his luggage, stereo equipment, front seat, dash, under the hood, etc.... they had police escorts take us directly to adams morgan. every 15 feet was another cop radioing ahead to the next one the entire trip out. opdyke had made the call before we left to not get pot, thank christ. despite our fear of being held in jail for being suspected terrorists, we got out of there pretty early and still made it to the party with plenty of time to spare. obviously in DC, our story got us lots of beer and a little puntang... they love their gossip in that town.

juicy? now you go....


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