Can I Borrow A Quarter? (1387 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jimbo (View user info) at 2004-11-05 11:49:52 EST
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
Can I borrow a quarter?
Because I need to make a phone call. They told me I was allowed 2 phone calls, but of course they never seem to tell you it's a Goddamned pay phone and if you don't have any change then it's tough titty, no soup for you.
As with every shitty thing that happens to me in my life, today started out great. I had plans to go to a party at a friend's house. All my friends and I go to the same tiny little private school here in town, and every weekend is pretty much the same: Friday night, party at one friend's house. Saturday night, party at someone else's house. Next weekend, rinse and repeat. It's routine, to be sure, but with enough spice and randomness thrown into our lives to keep us from knocking over liquor stores or becoming serial arsonists just out of sheer boredom.
To continue:
The party started out at Lisa's house (names have been changed) and after everyone arrived, there were probably twelve people there. The players are not really important, but two I want to describe are Shane and Doug.
Shane was a "rich kid". His parents weren't billionaires, but they had enough money to buy him a new M3 for his eighteenth birthday. That's more than I could have said for my parents, who gave me a sweet powder blue 1975 Ford LTD station wagon to tool around in. SAFETY, people, that's the name of the game in the LTD. I wasn't jealous. I didn't want that damn BMW deathtrap. Excuse my while I go cry in the bathroom.
Doug was a jock. Star soccer, basketball, and tennis player, he was all-American everything and generally made me sick to be around with his tripping over the trophies falling out of his ass all the time. Smooth, calm, and confident, he stood in stark contrast to me, a lanky, uncoordinated fool with no social skills and a malformed sense of humor. I'm not jealous or anything, but nevertheless I hate him I hate him I want to push him into traffic damn him to the flaming depths of hell for all eternity. I will now set myself on fire.
After about an hour of small talk, the decision was made by the higher-ups to move the party to Doug's house. His family had a pool table and ping-pong in the basement, setting us up for a long night of beer pong and Nines. Good times. The problem was that Shane and Doug had both planned on keeping the party at Lisa's, and together had downed a fifth of Absolut. Result? Not enough sober drivers to move everyone.
So I volunteered to drive Shane's car. I just want to state for the record that I had absolutely NOTHING to drink that night. Not a sip. But unfortunately, I DID have a suspended license. Too many tickets in a twelve month period, you see. But my friends didn't know that. So yes, I lied by omission. What can I say? It was a nice car.
In any event, as the other cars were leaving, Shane threw me the keys, then inexplicably crammed himself into another car and left. And suddenly I was left all alone in Lisa's driveway with the keys to a new BMW. Hmmm, what should I have done?
I hopped into the driver's seat and checked everything out. What a sweet ride, still had the new-car smell. I don't know shit about cars so I'll spare you the wet-dream particulars of his one. Red, with black leather interior, that's about all I could tell you. Oh yeah, it was a 5-speed. With a cassette stereo.
A cassette? WHAT THE HELL!?!
What the shit is that about? Who still has a damn tape player in their car? Hey, Shane, 1984 called and they want their technology back. What a piece of shit. I had no idea what it was doing in the car, but it was clearly aftermarket. Shane obviously had to have removed the existing CD player and put the tape player in. But who replaces a CD with a tape deck? What is going on here? Where am I? Am I stuck in a time-warp?
Well, I tried not to dwell on the whole cassette-instead-of-CD thing, and started the car up and pulled out of the driveway. Suddenly, I was assaulted on all sides by the smooth beats of DJ Jazzy Jeff and Fresh Prince.
"What in THE Hell is going on here!!?!" I shouted to the steering wheel. The Fresh Prince? THE FRESH PRINCE!!?!
I immediately leaned over and started stabbing random buttons on the deck in a futile attempt to eject the offending material. No luck. Not to be intimidated, I persisted for about 30 seconds, intent on getting that damned tape out. The tape deck just calmly mocked me for my ineptness, while Will Smith let me know in no uncertain terms that, take it from him, parents just don't understand.
<POP>
YES!! There went the tape. Blissful silence reigned again in The Car That Bavaria Built. I smiled and leaned back in my seat, warmly victorious in that battle of wills.
I hope you'll understand, then, why I neglected to notice the flashing blue lights in my rear view mirror. Crap. Turn signal Right. Decrease speed. Pull over. Stop. Apply parking brake. Roll down window. Turn off engine. The cop took his Goddamned sweet time strolling his ass over to me, too.
"You been drinkin' boy? You been smokin' weed?"
"No officer!", I answered a little too quickly, then I lost my mind for some reason and started blowing in his face like a lunatic.
"See?" <puff puff> "See? No alcohol at all." <puff puff> "Can you smell anything? Nothing. I haven't had anything to drink, officer, I swear on a stack of bib-"
"Jesus Christ would you shut up for a second? I pulled you over for weaving all over the road. What the hell is wrong with you?" He stared at me menacingly.
I caved and whimpered like Gollum, "Umm, it's this tape deck it wouldn't let me eject the tape and I just leaned over for a second to try to get it out and all I wanted was for some quiet and-"
"Well, why didn't you just turn it off?"
Shit.
"Umm, I didn't think of that?"
He stared at me like I was one of his "special" kids. He sneered, "License and registration, please."
I stared at him blankly for a few seconds.
"Umm, I lost my license."
He narrowed his eyes and whispered, "Lost? You left it at home?"
"Umm, no."
More narrowing, then, "Lost, as in suspended or revoked?"
"Umm, maybe."
"Please step out of the car, sir."
"Wait, I can explain, I just-"
"PLEASE STEP OUT OF THE GODDAMN CAR SIR!!"
"Umm, okay."
I felt an impending flood of tears coming and of course would have been helpless to stop it, had the young officer not been so kind as to interrupt my thoughts with, "Sir, I am going to administer a Field Sobriety Test, do you know what that is?"
"But I haven't been drinking at all officer I was just taking my friend's car to-"
"I AM GOING TO ADMINISTER A GODDAMNED FIELD SOBRIETY TEST, UNDERSTAND?!?"
"Umm, okay."
"Hold your head still and follow my pen with your eyes only. Okay now watch the - GODDAMNIT DON'T MOVE YOUR HEAD!! EYES ONLY!!"
I started cringing and whimpered, "You're making me nervous and I can't concentrate when-"
"FOLLOW! THE! FUCKING! PEN! WITH! YOUR! EYES! ONLY!"
Have you ever seen those crazy animal shows on TV where they have like a sheep or a goat that passes out whenever they hear a loud noise? That's what I'm like. I get all faint and start acting shaky and shit when people yell at me. That's what started happening to me with the cop, which led to the following exchange:
Cop: "Why are you gettin' all wobbly like that? Are you high?"
Me: "Oh my Christ you're making me nervous I'm trying my best-"
Cop: "CALM DOWN! JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU WALK THIS YELLOW LINE HEEL TO TOE!!"
Me: <whimper whimper whine whine>
Cop: "HEEL TO TOE!! HEEL TO TOE!! GODDAMNIT YOU'RE MAKING ME ANGRY SON!!"
Suddenly I absolutely went off my nut and blurted out, "Why the hell are you being so mean to me it's not like I tried to grab your fucking gun or-"
Cop: "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
And the cop abruptly charged me, ducked his shoulder, and propelled me into the ditch on the side of the road. I went face down into a pile of pine needles and when I looked up at him, he had his Glock drawn on me with the slack taken out of the trigger. I sharted (nervous fart + shit = shart).
Cop: "DON'T FUCKING MOVE PUT YOUR FACE DOWN ARMS SPREAD LEGS CROSSED!!"
Me (whimpering like a coward): "Why are you doing this to me? Why why whyyyyyyyyyyyy!?"
Cop: "SHUT UP DON'T MOVE PUT YOUR GODDAMN FACE DOWN!!"
I did what he told me. In about two seconds flat I felt his knee ram me in the back of the neck, and the handcuffs clanked over my wrists. Then he viciously dragged me over to his squad car and rammed my head into the door before he realized that wasn't the way to open it. The next thing I knew, we're on our way to the police station having the following conversation:
Cop: "All you had to do was a Field Sobriety Test. Why would you threaten a police officer?"
Me: "What? WHAT!?! FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING NAZI!! I DIDN'T THREATEN YOU YOU GODDAMN STUPID REDNECK PIG MOTHERFUCKER!! FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU GAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAA!!!"
Cop: "Suit yourself. That's how I'm writing it up."
And he did. I was booked for Driving While License Suspended Or Revoked, Verbal Intimidation, Assault, and Resisting Arrest. No fucking lie.
So anyway, I need that quarter.
User Reviews
Submitted by joekerland (user info) at 2005-04-28 17:28:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
now you have me trying to figure out who the changed names were - thanks a lot, I may not sleep tonight.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 11:35:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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