Ok, since my buddy rev had a run in with the law last night, and asked me to post our encounter with the same law from 3 years ago, I decided to give it a go. Since it's too long to post in the comments I figured I’d dedicate a post to it. to read what he went through the other night you can read it here.
****All of what you are about to read actually happened. All the comments are real, I couldn't make this shit up if I wanted to. In fact, there is a gross of comments that were made that have been left out due to my lack of complete recollection. Rev, Drunk, if i missed a gem, please let me know. Also, this whole ordeal lasted somewhere around an hour and a half to two hours.****
Ok, so, it was I believe an October eve when we got a wild hair up our asses about visiting some "haunted" sites. You know, see what fun we can have without booze. Turns out, plenty. So in the greater Detroit area there used to be a huge mental facility known simply as Eloise. Now, the residents of this place were generally wards of the state and thusly interred at a nearby cemetery, this was our destination. We had a vague idea where it may or may not be located, but no real concrete idea. This was to be the highlight of the eve.
We turned down the street we thought it was on (Henry Ruff?). Almost immediate upon turning onto this street we realized we were in an urban war zone. aka an Inkster project. Rev says unto us, "uh... I think we need to turn around dude, this looks like the projects." to which drunk and myself both said, "uhh.. Yeah, god speed". So the first street we make a u-turn as the streets are too narrow to pull a u-ey on (great war zone tactic, makes for great bottlenecking ala Spartan strategy). Shortly after turning around and heading back to Michigan Ave. a car pulls up behind us. A cop car. And proceeds to pull us over.
We're all looking at each other trying to figure out why we're being pulled over. Three fat white guys, in the ghetto, in a beat to shit (on some parts of the body, literally beat by rev himself) escort station wagon. Well, apparently that's why got pulled over. Cop walks up to my window (front passenger) and starts asking stupid questions, about drugs, and we're all confused and just simply saying, "What? What are talking about?". So he asks, "Why we turned around when we saw him?" which our reply was, "where were you? We didn't see shit." so then the cop asks if we were coming from picking up or dropping off drugs. At this point I had no control over my speech and just blurted out "both". Then he asks to search the vehicle.
This causes a chuckle from the three of us as we know a search of vehicle #1 yield nothing, #2 cause the officer a great deal of pain and #3 possibly result in a HazMat team being called. For reference, you need to understand Rev's vehicle. Picture, if you will, a 199ish ford escort wagon. In the front seat, instead of a floorboard, you have garbage. Instead of a seat, you have garbage. When you want to sit down you move the garbage to back seat. Though, instead of a backseat, there's garbage, so it ends up on the floorboard, though instead of a floorboard it's garbage. If you want to sit in the back seat, you have to move the garbage to the way back. Though, instead of a way back, there's garbage. So, you throw your (his) garbage, on garbage, then you throw the garbage garbage on garbage. Yeah, you read all that right. And by garbage I mean garbage. Papers, old mcdonalds/burgerking/tacobell/wendys/whateverthefuck bags and wrappers and pop bottles and cans and empty product packaging. General chaos and shit.
We all exit. One at a time and for some reason I was the last. I was drinking a 2 liter of faygo rock and rye at the time, and the cop took it, smelled it, and wouldn't give it back. Asshole. Then they frisked me. Now keep in mind it's late Oct. and Detroit... so it was around 20 degrees. I get out, and immediately put my hands in my pockets out of habit, which elicited a response from both cops to "show us your hands!". Upon frisking me and finding only Tums, cigarettes, a lighter, and some condoms (which caused Rev and Drunk to shout, "what the fuck do you need those for!?").
We're all sitting on the curb as the cop gets ready to toss the car. A Wayne county sheriff’s deputy is standing watch over us as an Inkster cop is getting ready to have some fun. Upon opening the door we hear the gasp of "oh dear god!". This of course causes us to laugh our asses off. We knew what he was getting himself into. He would find no drugs, no guns no booze, no nothing. He then finds Rev’s harmonica. He stands up, holds it up and says, "Ok, who plays the harmonica?" drunk and I both point to rev. I blurt out, "Yeah, the banjo and the canoes fell off a few miles back." the sheriff laughed at this, but the city cop failed to the see the humor, yet.
In talking to the sheriff he was saying how his biggest acid (or x?) bust involved a couple burgers under a passenger seat and one of the two being wrapped in it. Which was just funny as shit, so then I asked for my faygo back cuz I was thirsty, and he said no. asshole. So drunk pulls a cigarette out and gets yelled at, which of course prompts great argument from all of us since we're all smokers and not happy about the situation. So then the cop asks us again, about the drugs. Picking up or dropping off? We try to explain we were just driving around and made a wrong turn. He (sheriff) begins to tell us where are. A little place known to the locals as "Little Saigon". A war zone where cops dare not tread, lest traveling at high rates of speed or with back-up. The cops then regaled us stories of Little Saigon and life on the beat.
The city cop pops up again and says, "Ok, where's the drugs?" which again I cannot control myself and spew, "it's in the second gas tank. This is the John Delorian border running model." I think drunk chimed in with something about it running on white lightning but this has been at least 3 years ago. At this point the cop starts to laugh and moves on to the back wagon area. Where he pulls out Rev’s e-tool. For those of you not familiar, google it. It’s an army shovel/chair/axe/close combat weapon/sex toy type thing. He unfolds it says, "shit, I shoulda been using this thing the whole time". Of course we and the sheriff about shit ourselves, as he has assessed the situation and decided to go nowhere near that rolling science experiment.
Finally the cop gets done tossing the car and lets us get back in (and I get my faygo back. assholes.) and proceeds to point about 200 yards up the road to a huge, beautiful white concrete and aluminum building that is well lit and has neon everywhere and looks quite expensive and says, "look, up there is flight club. You guys go there, it's a nice little tittie bar, have some fun". again, I cannot stop myself, I point about yards up across the street from where he pointed to a 50 by 50 shit brown covered building that has no lights in the parking lot and no neon and say, "yeah, we'd prefer to go to Bogart’s dude." the cop laughs his ass off and retorts, "shit, you guys have money in bottles and cans to go to Bogart’s! Have fun be safe".
After that we proceeded to meet my mother and her girlfriends at the bar to laugh off the happenings of the last hour and a half. And ladies and gents should you ever be driving around at night on Michigan Ave. east of Middlebelt, DO NOT TURN SOUTH ON HENRY RUFF. Here endeth the lesson.
17 October 2005
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6 comments:
WOW! I mean, like totally, that's just like when my car got pulled over!!! My friend told me about your site, and I wanted to let you know about mine! Click here for true stories of being pulled over!
sorry, that was a poor attempt at humor based on the above comments.
I really really like the description of the car. I see ever mention of the word 'garbage' getting louder and louder until you're screaming GARBAGE!!
That's a great tale.
yes, i grasped your spam humor. and yes, the garbage description has long been a favorite of mine, though i never orally used the garbage getting louder and louder... but i will now.
there, are you happy?
The comment was " It's all in the second gas tank. It's part of Ford's 'shine running package. Not a bad option for a 100 bones" I then started going back and forth with Chud over " our days smuggeling fruit to canada" It got more odd looks and laughs...
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