Since Justin and I really didn't have any set plans for the evening, we decided to meet at a friend's house in this neighberhood. Only problem is Justin just said meet him at the inersection insted of telling me which house it was.
After about 20 minutes of waiting, Justin finally calls my cellphone anouncing that he is around the corner. He pulls up, i wait in my car, and he walks over. We exchange handshakes, he explains his friend's house is around the corner and to follow him. As i put my car into gear, a nice bright white police card comes driving up the road adjacent to ours, flips on it's lights, and drives up to the front of my car blocking me in. I exhale. That cool feeling when you feel all your internal organs scream “F U C K”. The feeling people probably feel when they drive off a bridge. Spotlight goes in my eyes, i put my car back into park and turn the lights off. The cop steps out of his car with one hand on his flashlight and one on his gun. I feel a tear drip from my eye. The officer ordered Justin into my car and we sat there staring into the bright lights of the squad car. Now i was mostly sober, as sober as i get anyway but it would make a better story if i had 3 kilos of coke in my trunk, so lets just pretend I did. He approaches my window, i roll it down and flashes his light in my eyes. Now this was one of those cops that you should be afraid of. This guy is not the fat belly jolly sherrif that drinks Jack after he gets off and “had his wild days as a kid” old guy.
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My cop was Hitler Youth, blonde haired, blue eyed son of the 3rd Reich kind of police officer. The one that when he gets off work he goes home and polishes his guns because he's so upset about the drugs and crime in the world. The bad cop. So he taps on the window and i roll it down he says that “They had gotten a call about supecisious activity in the area” and wanted to see some ID. I laughed for a second at the horrible “Hi, we're the police, we saw one guy walk up to a car, say some stuff, shake hands, and as he was walking away the car begins to pull away”.
He thinks it was a crack deal. Because that's what it looked like. I'd like to thank god at this point in the story that the squad car approached me from the front and not the back, so the cop never saw the CRACKHORE.COM bumper sticker on the back. Hahaha, tommorow i am going to go sign up for some community service for that.
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Okay, as the cop is walking away with our liscenses, he turns, flashes the light in my eyes again, and asks if that's my name, Steve James. Steve James is not my real name. Steve James is the name on the Service Transport Salvation Army jacket. I tell him this important fact and he stares for a second and starts to walk back to his car turns back his car. He then spins around says “What's your social security number?”, I spit out my number to him and he nods and walks to the car. Justin and i make small talk, what he's been up to, oh you've been drinking alot too, etc, etc. The cop walks back to the car, flashes the light in the car and then hands us back our ID's and says we “check out”. That scared me, “checking out” is like “Vere are you'rve vapers” Nazi Germany gestapo feel to it.
I flick on the lights and pull away quickly. My “the bigger creature is going to eat you” instict was clawing at my back and I followed Justin away. So Steve James, wherever you are, your jacket is in good hands.
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