The second story I tell at parties (since you all loved laughing at my expense last time). This one is about the time I was arrested…well kind of. I’m good fun at parties
Let me set the scene. I’m sixteen fresh out of band camp with a broken ankle in a cast. I’m over at my best friends house down the street, camping in her backyard. Important information, so remember this.
WE GET THIS IDEA: Let’s do something stupid. Because why not? We’re young. We’re cute. We’re stupid as hell.
I flash back to a funny article I read several months prior, these punk kids poured colored laundry detergent into a local fountain downtown.
WHAT. A. GREAT. IDEA.
I finally convinced my best friend Amanda to steal some soap from her parents house and we’d jump the fence, walk down to the big fountain in a newly constructed neighborhood and dump it allllllll in. We couldn’t find laundry detergent, so we stole shampoo instead.
I just want to remind you at this point in the story. My ankle is broken, shattered in several places, I am in a cast.
We hop over her backyard fence, through a ditch, through a construction site and start walking. We “borrowed” her parents digital camera and started taking pictures (we were already stealing stuff, so we might as well go all the way). We’re in this construction site hyped up on adrenaline.
We run quickly over to the big, shiny, brand new fountain. We dump everything in. Every single soap container we found at Amanda’s parents house.
THEN WE STARTED RUNNING. I’VE NEVER RAN FASTER IN MY LIFE. (My ankle was still broken, but I was impressed by my speed)
I’m face first in the dirt, ankle throbbing and I look up and see red and blue flashing lights (damn it).
MY ANKLE IS STILL BROKEN. I GET UP. START RUNNING EVEN FASTER.
My best friend? Oh yeah, Amanda? She left me. She didn’t have a broken ankle and she didn’t have anything to loose. She left me there in the construction site, being chased down by the cops.
They caught us
The cop drags me back to the main road, as I’m crying. He’s buddy catches Amanda finally and drags her back too. They cuff us and throw us in the cop car. Amanda and I had pressed our faces to the glass, trying to listen as the cop called the local judge to see if they wanted to take us back to jail to book us.
Resisting Arrest. Out Past Curfew. In a Construction Site. Destruction of City Property.
I spent the summer of my senior year under house arrest, grounded (like GROUNDED GROUNDED) and volunteering.