This last weekend was the last weekend of one of my airmen. See, I live a block away from the airforce base, and airmen get filtered through my house often, and monthly, it would seem. It was a regular weekend- Party on a friday night, recovery and sleep on Saturday, movies that night or more party, and leave to go back to base on Sunday afternoon for curfew.
This weekend, however, made a turn we didn't see coming. Truth be told, we have no idea how it came. Okay maybe we do, but saying we didn't just makes it all mysterious and shit. Whatever. Read.
So it was a Saturday. We'd been watching the movies I rented from Blockbuster that evening because we didn't get a chance to watch them the previous night. Luckily, we got them all watched before ten, so I thought I might go return them. The suggestion of even moving from the couch was enough to get the other three up- Miss, Skit, and Alaska.
So we set off, Skit driving, Miss in the passenget seat, Alaska and I in the back. Yes. Yes the seating arrangement is important. You will see why.
We dropped off the movies at Blockbuster, and seeing the Whataburger across the street, the men were hungry and went through the drivethru. I don't eat all that lovely meat business so some delicious fries and onion rings were all I wanted.
Now, before I go into this next part, I need all readers to understand- I can't eat fries without fry sauce. What is fry sauce you ask? Well, for my Northerners there's no explanation needed. For all the other non-freakish people of the world, it is a delicious combination of Mayo and Ketchup. I know. I'm not much of a Mayo person myself, but damn. It's so... mmm.
When we get to the drive through the gal asks us if we need any Ketchup or anything for our food.
Back up. I am hyper as hell. I work a grave shift. I haven't slept all day. At this point, I work in a couple hours. I get super bubbly and crazy and giggly when I'm sleep deprived. It's amazing and I do it often. Deal with it.
*FAST FORWARD*
So at the drivethru, I'm already giggling my ass off about.. I dunno, some story I was telling where my mum throws a phonebook at my brother. Hell if I know. I don't even think I got to the end of the story before I was crying of hysteria.
When the gal is passing food through the window, Skit tells her, "It's the meds she's on..." The gal cracks up and that's when she asks if we need condiments. In a very deep man-voice, and very loud, I bellow, "MAYYYOOOONNNNAAIIIIIISEE" The car load loses it and we get some wide-eyed looks from the people inside.
We're driving back to my place, and have to cross a freeway/bridge to get there. There's a stop light we have to wait at before crossing. We're in the right lane, and in the left and a car forward there is a po po. Me and Alaska are still going off about the MAYONNAISE incident, we're loud, the windows are down, the music is bumping. Having just a good time, right? Can't get pulled over for that shit, right?
Wrong. So wrong. We're all wrong. You're wrong.
The light turns green, and not even two minutes later, the jacksquat is behind us, flashing his cherries and berries.
You've got to be kidding me.
"Thanks, Ging" is all Skit has to say. Just so you caught that in the beginning- I'm not even the one driving!! I'm not even in the passenger seat!! Me and Alaska are in the fucking back, but we totally know why we're being pulled over.
Of course, Skit gets asked to step out of the vehicle, seeing as how we're on the freeway and the jacksquat probably doesn't want to get his ass ran off. From the car we hear muffled parts of the conversation. It was totally about the crazy bitch in the back seat yelling, and apparently that's a problem. As per routine, Skits gets asked if he is drunk, gets brethalized, no big deal.
He comes to my door. I open it and step out.
Before you read this, know that I already have a problem with this guy - I've little to no respect for police in the first place, but I can already tell, if I wasn't with a bunch of airmen, I would run my mouth.
I'm praying to Jesus at this point, Lord please don't let me pop off, these airmen need their future...
He takes me off to the side,"What was all that hootin and hollerin I heard from you at the stop light?"
I immediately start smiling- no remorse from this gal, "Mayonnaise."
He looks at me like I'm blitzed out of my mind.
"What? we got some Whataburger in the car with some Mayonnaise, I find that exciting."
"Ma'am, have to been drinking tonight?" I see the cocky scowl on his face.
"Yes sir I have been."
Back up. You must know, it's 10:30, 10:45 at night by this time. I have no idea how long alcohol stays in your system, but the last time I had a drink that day was at 5:00 or 7:00. I said yes because I'm old enough to drink and if he breathalized me, no big deal. Not driving. I'm of age.
So I just said yes for those purposes. I had a damn Vodka and sprite. A half of one. No way I'm drunk five friggin hours later.
"How much you think you had tonight? Three? Four?" He asks.
"Not even. Like a half."
"Excuse me?"
"Of sprite and Vodka. You should try it sometime. Delicious."
"Date of birth?"
I tell him.
"Got an ID on you?"
"No."
"Well why not?"
"Because I'm not driving?" I look at him like he's a friggin moron. Because he is. We just wanted to return some movies. Get some food. Why the hell would I bring my ID with me for that? It's a hop, skip, and a jump away for titty's sake.
"So how am I supposed to know if you're of age or not?"
Oh lord, girl please hold your tongue...
"Look, you can put my ass in the back of that cop car and haul me to my apartment and I will gladly show you my ID." I just stare him down for a minute. He stares back.
"Where you work?"
"IP." I point to the giant ass building behind him.
"Where you live?"
I rattle off the street, he confirms the apartments and I tell him we're headed there.
He's asking me these personal questions because he asked Skit why I was being all cray-cray and where we were headed. His response to the po po was that I was majorly sleep deprived and hadn't slept that day and had work that evening.
Good man.
He walks away from me- no brethalyzer- and goes to Miss's door; passenger. Takes her aside. Not before being a total creeper and reaching for her knife at her side without even telling her what he was doing.
Skit and I were both about to jump this man. We protect our women.
I watch him question her.
"Ma'am, have you had anything to drink tonight."
"No." she says.
"You sure?"
She squints an eye as if to think, "Yes?" She responds.
Who the fuck asks that? "You sure you haven't been drinking?" Pretty sure you'd know or not. I gave the guy a funny look too.
Blah blah blah, he goes and gets Alaska out of the car- now this part is beautiful.
You must understand Alaska is a straight edge. No alcohol for this cat. Ever. Us other three? On any given weekend, hell yeah. No big deal. I just met Alaska the day before, and even when it's offered to him a million times, he refuses. No pressure. Just doesn't. No big deal.
He asks Alaska to step out of the car. When he does this, he totally kicks his soda all over the floor board. "Sir," he says, " I have an issue with the soda. May I fix it?" He asks, po po snaps, "Make it quick," and Alaska begins shoveling the ice and soda out onto the freeway.
Poor kid is a nervous wreck and I had to chuckle a little at the site of him shoveling the soda out.
He gets to the po po, "You been drinkin tonight sir?"
"No sir." He stands at attention.
"You sure? Confident enough to take a breathalyzer test?"
"Yes sir."
"You know that if you're lying, you can go to jail for this?"
"Yes sir."
Of course, blows 00's and Skit and I exchange looks.
The most sober kid you know acts the most drunk of us all. The irony in it all was precious. I was glad he knocked over the soda. It put a damper on the mood of the po po. It made me smile.
He pretty much just had to excuse us after that. We all got back in the car, exchanging each other's stories of the things the jacksquat asked us. In agreement, that guy was a doucher. The other three caught it but I wasn't even paying attention- apparently a lieutenant of some kind.
Not that it matters a rat's to me. Seriously. In a busy city where everything is loud, vehicles have their systems ballin', and we're not even in city limits for any kind of noise ordinance, who the hell pulls over a car because the back seat passenger keeps repeating MAYONNAISE in a man voice?
Seriously dude. You've been pwnd.
This weekend, however, made a turn we didn't see coming. Truth be told, we have no idea how it came. Okay maybe we do, but saying we didn't just makes it all mysterious and shit. Whatever. Read.
So it was a Saturday. We'd been watching the movies I rented from Blockbuster that evening because we didn't get a chance to watch them the previous night. Luckily, we got them all watched before ten, so I thought I might go return them. The suggestion of even moving from the couch was enough to get the other three up- Miss, Skit, and Alaska.
So we set off, Skit driving, Miss in the passenget seat, Alaska and I in the back. Yes. Yes the seating arrangement is important. You will see why.
We dropped off the movies at Blockbuster, and seeing the Whataburger across the street, the men were hungry and went through the drivethru. I don't eat all that lovely meat business so some delicious fries and onion rings were all I wanted.
Now, before I go into this next part, I need all readers to understand- I can't eat fries without fry sauce. What is fry sauce you ask? Well, for my Northerners there's no explanation needed. For all the other non-freakish people of the world, it is a delicious combination of Mayo and Ketchup. I know. I'm not much of a Mayo person myself, but damn. It's so... mmm.
When we get to the drive through the gal asks us if we need any Ketchup or anything for our food.
Back up. I am hyper as hell. I work a grave shift. I haven't slept all day. At this point, I work in a couple hours. I get super bubbly and crazy and giggly when I'm sleep deprived. It's amazing and I do it often. Deal with it.
*FAST FORWARD*
So at the drivethru, I'm already giggling my ass off about.. I dunno, some story I was telling where my mum throws a phonebook at my brother. Hell if I know. I don't even think I got to the end of the story before I was crying of hysteria.
When the gal is passing food through the window, Skit tells her, "It's the meds she's on..." The gal cracks up and that's when she asks if we need condiments. In a very deep man-voice, and very loud, I bellow, "MAYYYOOOONNNNAAIIIIIISEE" The car load loses it and we get some wide-eyed looks from the people inside.
We're driving back to my place, and have to cross a freeway/bridge to get there. There's a stop light we have to wait at before crossing. We're in the right lane, and in the left and a car forward there is a po po. Me and Alaska are still going off about the MAYONNAISE incident, we're loud, the windows are down, the music is bumping. Having just a good time, right? Can't get pulled over for that shit, right?
Wrong. So wrong. We're all wrong. You're wrong.
The light turns green, and not even two minutes later, the jacksquat is behind us, flashing his cherries and berries.
You've got to be kidding me.
"Thanks, Ging" is all Skit has to say. Just so you caught that in the beginning- I'm not even the one driving!! I'm not even in the passenger seat!! Me and Alaska are in the fucking back, but we totally know why we're being pulled over.
Of course, Skit gets asked to step out of the vehicle, seeing as how we're on the freeway and the jacksquat probably doesn't want to get his ass ran off. From the car we hear muffled parts of the conversation. It was totally about the crazy bitch in the back seat yelling, and apparently that's a problem. As per routine, Skits gets asked if he is drunk, gets brethalized, no big deal.
He comes to my door. I open it and step out.
Before you read this, know that I already have a problem with this guy - I've little to no respect for police in the first place, but I can already tell, if I wasn't with a bunch of airmen, I would run my mouth.
I'm praying to Jesus at this point, Lord please don't let me pop off, these airmen need their future...
He takes me off to the side,"What was all that hootin and hollerin I heard from you at the stop light?"
I immediately start smiling- no remorse from this gal, "Mayonnaise."
He looks at me like I'm blitzed out of my mind.
"What? we got some Whataburger in the car with some Mayonnaise, I find that exciting."
"Ma'am, have to been drinking tonight?" I see the cocky scowl on his face.
"Yes sir I have been."
Back up. You must know, it's 10:30, 10:45 at night by this time. I have no idea how long alcohol stays in your system, but the last time I had a drink that day was at 5:00 or 7:00. I said yes because I'm old enough to drink and if he breathalized me, no big deal. Not driving. I'm of age.
So I just said yes for those purposes. I had a damn Vodka and sprite. A half of one. No way I'm drunk five friggin hours later.
"How much you think you had tonight? Three? Four?" He asks.
"Not even. Like a half."
"Excuse me?"
"Of sprite and Vodka. You should try it sometime. Delicious."
"Date of birth?"
I tell him.
"Got an ID on you?"
"No."
"Well why not?"
"Because I'm not driving?" I look at him like he's a friggin moron. Because he is. We just wanted to return some movies. Get some food. Why the hell would I bring my ID with me for that? It's a hop, skip, and a jump away for titty's sake.
"So how am I supposed to know if you're of age or not?"
Oh lord, girl please hold your tongue...
"Look, you can put my ass in the back of that cop car and haul me to my apartment and I will gladly show you my ID." I just stare him down for a minute. He stares back.
"Where you work?"
"IP." I point to the giant ass building behind him.
"Where you live?"
I rattle off the street, he confirms the apartments and I tell him we're headed there.
He's asking me these personal questions because he asked Skit why I was being all cray-cray and where we were headed. His response to the po po was that I was majorly sleep deprived and hadn't slept that day and had work that evening.
Good man.
He walks away from me- no brethalyzer- and goes to Miss's door; passenger. Takes her aside. Not before being a total creeper and reaching for her knife at her side without even telling her what he was doing.
Skit and I were both about to jump this man. We protect our women.
I watch him question her.
"Ma'am, have you had anything to drink tonight."
"No." she says.
"You sure?"
She squints an eye as if to think, "Yes?" She responds.
Who the fuck asks that? "You sure you haven't been drinking?" Pretty sure you'd know or not. I gave the guy a funny look too.
Blah blah blah, he goes and gets Alaska out of the car- now this part is beautiful.
You must understand Alaska is a straight edge. No alcohol for this cat. Ever. Us other three? On any given weekend, hell yeah. No big deal. I just met Alaska the day before, and even when it's offered to him a million times, he refuses. No pressure. Just doesn't. No big deal.
He asks Alaska to step out of the car. When he does this, he totally kicks his soda all over the floor board. "Sir," he says, " I have an issue with the soda. May I fix it?" He asks, po po snaps, "Make it quick," and Alaska begins shoveling the ice and soda out onto the freeway.
Poor kid is a nervous wreck and I had to chuckle a little at the site of him shoveling the soda out.
He gets to the po po, "You been drinkin tonight sir?"
"No sir." He stands at attention.
"You sure? Confident enough to take a breathalyzer test?"
"Yes sir."
"You know that if you're lying, you can go to jail for this?"
"Yes sir."
Of course, blows 00's and Skit and I exchange looks.
The most sober kid you know acts the most drunk of us all. The irony in it all was precious. I was glad he knocked over the soda. It put a damper on the mood of the po po. It made me smile.
He pretty much just had to excuse us after that. We all got back in the car, exchanging each other's stories of the things the jacksquat asked us. In agreement, that guy was a doucher. The other three caught it but I wasn't even paying attention- apparently a lieutenant of some kind.
Not that it matters a rat's to me. Seriously. In a busy city where everything is loud, vehicles have their systems ballin', and we're not even in city limits for any kind of noise ordinance, who the hell pulls over a car because the back seat passenger keeps repeating MAYONNAISE in a man voice?
Seriously dude. You've been pwnd.
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