The following is a true story of young angst and Orwellian oppression by da man. The names have been changed because I don't remember them.
It was a hot summer in Fountain City. We had no cars at that age yet, so we relied on the tried and true means of transportation. Feets don't fail me now. Feets don't come with AC either. This summer was the beginning of the heyday for my young trouble making soul. I had been smoking righties regularly for a year and lefties for a little longer. The duck pond was the public hangout for stoners, drinkers and midnight fondlers. I owned the duck pond for a few months, thanks to a lucky find of 20 or so pounds of sweet Mary J. I digress. That will be for another Fellini installment.
This one particular night, we'll call it Thursday, I was out walking around with two compatriots. We weren't messing with anyone. We were stoners. Stoners never mess with anyone, because they don't want to be messed with. We hated harsh buzzes. Anyway...David, Lisa and I had found our way to the local Mayos. It was hot. We were tired of walking around.
Mayos had bales of hay sitting on the side of the building that looked like a perfect place to sit and ponder the meaning of it all. I pondered, he lit and she flirted. She was the village bike. The doobster made its rounds several times. I was enjoying myself immensely to be sure. One the last round and when the damn thing was in my possession, I looked up to see a KPD cruiser sitting there. The searchlight flicked on and landed squarely on me.
Have you ever seen a herd a gazelles react to a cheetah coming out of the bushes? Try watching some more Animal Planet. It's cool.
All three of us had the same reaction. In three different directions.
For some reason the cruiser chose to follow me. Bad mistake. I could outrun photons at that age. I don't mean to brag (yes I do), but I was still in track and running ten miles daily back then.
I ran towards the back of the building and around the corner. I knew what I was doing in the back of my mind somewhere. Instinct took over and I was 100% into flight or fight mode. I could hear barely hear the roar of the cruiser as it gave chase. In the back of parking lot was a 2 foot wall that I barely had to step over. I was already almost flying.
This two foot wall was no problem for someone on foot. However, it was a major problem for a Crown Vic on foot. Behind me I heard the screams of twisted and crumpled metal as the cruiser slammed into the wall. It wasn't traveling all that fast. But the officer never had the chance to put on the brakes either. Crash Bang Boom!!
These things registered on my brain slightly. I felt like I was running through mud six feet deep.
I heard the car door fly open. Then I heard:
"I'm going to blow a hole in your head." "God Damnit"
"I said Stop!"
"I mean it. I'm going to shoot you! You little prick!"
The mud surrounding me became thicker. I felt as if I were hardly moving at all. I could almost feel the police officer walk up to me casually and grab me. I could see the air molecules floating in ether around me. I was booking it. If I went any faster I would have traveled back in time. I ran at that speed all the way home. My apartment was roughly a mile away. I went through yards, under bushes, over fences and skipped across pools. Somehow I managed never to touch pavement or concrete on this trip. Olympic scouts were watching from the bleachers.
I just knew the whole force was behind me. They had marshaled every KPD, KCS and FBI in the tri-state area. They were all after me. I could almost hear the Helos.
Anyone remember the paranoia?? Damn that Mary!!
I managed to get home safely. I zipped into the apartment and told my roommate what happened. He suggested that I jump into the shower and get the stench of Mary, sweat and fear off me. During the shower I must have heard someone knock on the front door seventeen times. Damn that Mary!
The next day at school I just knew they would pull me out of homeroom. Damn that Mary!
I didn't stop tokin till sometime later when I had another meeting of the minds with the KPD.
I send out an apology to the officer that had to fill mucho forms and explain that a 14 year old wrecked his car. You da man!
I now know several LEO's and have changed my ways. Strike that and reverse it. It is not so much a matter of changing ways as it is changing your risk vs. reward paradigm. Learning as it were. Putting your hand in fire is fun. But we all learn that it ends up sucking like a democratic intern. And we learn that LEO should be admired and respected. Damn I'm getting Old!!