SpaceCadet
Active member
So, I'm staying at my sister's house in Michigan for the winter, hopefully will be back in Portland by spring and they've given me free range on the liquor cabinet (dating 3 years back from their wedding). After a few Captain and whatever soda they have, I've become nostalgic, remembering times when I didn't really give a shit. So here is my first story (circa 2003):
My friend Jake and I were at a Goodwill, probably 2 am, going through their donation bins. I put on this gnarly lumberjack vest and see headlights coming from behind the building. I tell my buddy that it's time to go and we hop out of the bin as the cop is turning the corner (he obviously knew we were there). He hits the lights and I take off running knowing that he is gonna search us. He, obviously, catches up to me in his car so I double back and run back towards my buddy. As I turn the corner before he can turn his car around, I toss a pair of brass knuckles (which I found months later) and some weed.
I get back to my buddy and his car and stop. The cop gets out of the car and tells us to get on the ground. We get down on our stomachs and the cop is yelling at my buddy to get down. I look over and Jake is holding himself up, push-up style, and won't get down. Next thing I know, I see a red dot on his shoulder, I look up and assume that the cop has a gun. Ends up being a stun gun. A few more cop cars show up and they search us and the area. They, luckily, don't find the pot.
After they get us cuffed and search us, they find 3 cell phones on me (we were still sleeping in our house that got condemned and they cut the power to it and I was charging the cell phones of my room mates at my mom's house) and assume they are stolen. They tell my buddy that holding himself up is a great way to get his head blown off (really?) and end up letting us go. Later, I asked Jake why he wouldn't go all the way down on the ground and he said, "I have to go to a wedding and put a dress shirt on from the bin and didn't want it to get dirty before I could wear it."
.............
A few months later, I was at the same Goodwill with my girlfriend at the time. I told her the story and we laughed and haha'ed. As we walked out, she said, "Let's go look for the brass knuckles." Needless to say, we found them after a minute or two of searching.
My friend Jake and I were at a Goodwill, probably 2 am, going through their donation bins. I put on this gnarly lumberjack vest and see headlights coming from behind the building. I tell my buddy that it's time to go and we hop out of the bin as the cop is turning the corner (he obviously knew we were there). He hits the lights and I take off running knowing that he is gonna search us. He, obviously, catches up to me in his car so I double back and run back towards my buddy. As I turn the corner before he can turn his car around, I toss a pair of brass knuckles (which I found months later) and some weed.
I get back to my buddy and his car and stop. The cop gets out of the car and tells us to get on the ground. We get down on our stomachs and the cop is yelling at my buddy to get down. I look over and Jake is holding himself up, push-up style, and won't get down. Next thing I know, I see a red dot on his shoulder, I look up and assume that the cop has a gun. Ends up being a stun gun. A few more cop cars show up and they search us and the area. They, luckily, don't find the pot.
After they get us cuffed and search us, they find 3 cell phones on me (we were still sleeping in our house that got condemned and they cut the power to it and I was charging the cell phones of my room mates at my mom's house) and assume they are stolen. They tell my buddy that holding himself up is a great way to get his head blown off (really?) and end up letting us go. Later, I asked Jake why he wouldn't go all the way down on the ground and he said, "I have to go to a wedding and put a dress shirt on from the bin and didn't want it to get dirty before I could wear it."
.............
A few months later, I was at the same Goodwill with my girlfriend at the time. I told her the story and we laughed and haha'ed. As we walked out, she said, "Let's go look for the brass knuckles." Needless to say, we found them after a minute or two of searching.
