Memoir Monday: A Sign, A Drunk, and The Po-Po

Well, it's Monday again, and we all know what that means!  Musings of the Teenage Idiot Memoir Monday sponsored by my buddy Travis over at I like to Fish.




As you all have read in previous Memoir Mondays, I used my genius IQ for some really smart completely ridiculous antics as a brilliant teenager.  In that vain, comes another musing from the teenage me.

We'll call this one:  A Sign, A Drunk and The Po-Po

So, many of my exploits will never be chronicled, cause let's face it, some things are best left unsaid, and I have to pretend to have some air of mystery about me, you know so that you all have some sliver of respect for the grown-up me.  But, this one makes me laugh every time I think about it, and maybe you all will find it funny too.  Perhaps not, it may be one of those, you just had to be there stories.

So, I lived with three guys.  Pierre, Daemien and Randy.  We had the apartment that everyone came to party at cause everyone was still living with the parents and whatnot.  At any given time, there could be any number of people there that none of us knew, they would just show up with friends, or friends of friends.  Daemien worked as an assistant manager at Little Caesar's Pizza which meant we always had pizza.  Pierre and Randy worked at Dunkin' Donuts, so we always had donuts.  Someone, and I don't recall who, had a fake ID, so we always had some sort of alcohol.  So we had beer, vodka and food.  Therefore, we ALWAYS had some type of company.  Go figure.

One night, we had a relatively quiet evening and Daemien had consumed way too much alcohol.  Well, he always consumed way too much, but that's another story.  Anyhoo, you know how drunk people can be.  You can't tell them anything.  Add to that, teenager, and well...DISASTER waiting to happen entertainment.  So we'll, call him The Drunk.

The Drunk decides that we need to go procure a street sign for Pierre.  Pierre was dating a girl named Kristin.  So, he got out a map and starts looking for Kristin anything, Lane, Road, Street, Circle.  The only one he could find was a good 45 minute drive from us.  It is probably noteworthy to mention, The Drunk and Pierre had both been arrested, more than once, for stealing street signs.  They were both on their own as it were, for stunts such as this.  The Drunk was not quite 18, Pierre was already 18, I was 18 and Randy was 19.

So,the drunk found Kristin Lane, and he was going to go and get it.  Pierre and Randy worked the overnight shift, making the donuts so they were going to work.  That left me.  I had planned to get some rest because the next morning we were going to Wild Waters when Pierre and Randy got off work.  I wasn't about to let the drunk drive, given that he had way over-served himself, so I said I would drive.

Off we went to get The Sign.  I drove the drunk's car, an early 70s model cherry red Volkswagen Bug.  We all drove VW Bugs, except Pierre who was a motorcycle man.  Now, said cherry red bug was a little on the loud side.  You wouldn't think that a glorified lawnmower engine would be that loud, but even today I am often awoken on a Saturday morning (when I would like to sleep in) by a neighbor mowing his lawn, so now that I think about it, I guess that it makes sense it was loud.  Anyway, we arrive some 45 minutes later in Marrietta to steal The Sign.

I let the drunk out, and turn around in a circle and sat in the vehicle at an idle.  I watch him try and try to remove the sign.  It won't come off.  We are there like 20 minutes, and nothing.  IT. Will. Not. Come. Off.  Finally, defeated, the drunk makes his way back to the car as a light comes on outside one of the houses in this neighborhood.  We take off.  I put my little foot on the floor and we book it down the highway.  The Drunk says he isn't ready to go back home so drive the long way around Jacksonville.

So as I am passing downtown Jax I see lights in the rear view mirror.  Shit.  Double shit!  I'm speeding.  Oh crap, I lost my driver's license.  Not sure where I left it.  Oh fuck me, I have a drunk minor in the seat next to me, no license, speeding, illegal nerf bars on the front of this Bug, and a crack in the windshield.  I. am. so. screwed!  I pull over.  Wait.  There are cops on both sides of the road?? WTF?  There are several behind me!?!  I am so going to jail. 

I roll down the window as the cop walks up and he says, "Please step out of the vehicle slowly and put your hands where I can see them." OMG!  About that time I see the drunk being pulled from the vehicle with a gun pointed in his back.  Are you freaking kidding me?  No, I do not jest!  So, scared shitless, I exit the vehicle, very slowly.  The officer asked for ID, and I stuttered out that I had lost my driver's license.  He escorted me back to his vehicle and offered me a seat in the back of his shiny police car.  I watched as the cops are patting down my partner in crime and sit shaking like a leaf in the backseat.  Finally, the drunk is dumped into the back next to me.

I start giggling.

Me:  I have never seen the inside of a cop car before.
Drunk:  I have, it isn't that fun.
Me:  What are they doing out there.
Drunk:  We woke up a police officer while trying to get the sign.
Me:  Well that's fan-fucking-tastic.
Drunk:  Shhh...don't talk.
Me: Why not.
Drunk:  They are listening to us.
Me:  Ah...good to know.  Are they gonna take us to jail?
Drunk:  I hope not, my parents are on vacation.  I will have to stay until they get back in town.
Me:  You're screwed Dude!  Randy can come bail me out in the morning.
Drunk:  Well good for fucking you!
Me:  Oh. Sorry.
Drunk:  Shut up already.

Policeman, we'll call him Po-Po, gets into the vehicle.  Reads us our rights.  DAMNIT!  We are under arrest?!

Po-Po asks  me name, DOB, height, weight, eye color, address.  I deliver full name, birthdate,  5'9, 125lbs., brown, address.  Po-Po asks the drunk name, DOB, height, weight, eye color, address.  The drunk responds with full name, birthdate, 5"10, 125lbs., brown, same address.

Po-Po:  You are an awful big boy to weigh 125lbs.
Drunk:  Oh, I mean 225lb.
Me: hysterical laughter
Po-Po:  Snickers.
Drunk: glares at me
Po-Po:  Let me get this straight, you(speaking to me) live with him(motions to the drunk)
Me:  Yes sir, and two other guys.
Po-Po: Rolls eyes and turns around

The Po-Po runs our info.  I come up clean!  Yeah for me!  Po-Po decides to give us a break.  He asks if the drunk can drive.  I tell him, probably not.  They exit vehicle for sobriety check.  Nope.  Still drunk.  Po-Po reluctantly writes me a ticket(for not having a driver's license on me) and apologizes for having to do so.  He apologizes for the over exuberant asshole that we woke up.  Apologizes for the gun in the drunk's back, and thanks me for not letting the drunk drive in the first place.

So the drunk decided to hang up his theft shoes.  No more street signs!  And we spent a lovely afternoon at Wild Waters that afternoon!