After a night of boozing and debauchery I woke up at around ten in the morning and finished off what alcohol I had left. Contrary to what I personally believed this was a metric shit ton of brew. I think it was around noon that I decided to go for walk. After throwing on some jeans that (little did I know) smelled like cat piss and a Ron Jon Surfshop t-shirt I walked out the door into the free world barefoot.
I only made it around the corner before I saw a bunch of Chicano construction workers putting a roof together. For some fucked reason this really got me interested and fascinated. So I watched them in the front yard for a while and after a bit of that I walked into the backyard. I didn’t know the residents were home but they were and the man of the house (who was old and very evidently a democrat) stepped outside to ask me a few questions.
His first was, “Who the fuck are you?”, I had no idea what to say for a split second and it didn’t take more than another split second to come up with this ingenious answer, “I’m the representative.” I thought it was a good answer at the time.
“The representative?”
“Yes sir, the representative I represent these workers I have to make sure they do a good job.”
I say, this doesn’t daunt his apparent distaste for my current condition which he makes clear, “Are you drunk?”
“YES SIR, however I am still the representative”.
He walks inside for a little while and I continue watching the workers and for a moment, I believe, that I am the representative. I go around, walk up the stairs, walk down the stairs and inspect them as they work. I speak in broken Spanish to them as they make mild mistakes. This lasts for twenty minutes and the man steps outside again with an even shittier look on his face.
“They told me they didn’t send a representative.”
“Well sir they must’ve got it wrong because I’m obviously the representative.” he got tired of this shit and followed me out of the backyard and finally raised his phone, he was trembling now. “If you don’t leave I’ll call the police.” this set me off into an absolute temper tantrum.
“Sir do you know what kind of fucking economy we’re in?” he had no answer, for about five minutes I screamed and whined about the economy like Glenn Beck (if he ever actually talked about anything else other than militant black people). This still didn’t move him, though he was trembling to the point that he couldn’t dial 911 correctly the first time. “You don’t even care do you? You don’t even care that a fellow citizen is down on his luck and can’t find work and he tries to work without pay you can’t stand it can you? I bet you’re a democrat, you voted for Bill White didn’t you?” He was finally on the line with the police, I was polite enough to let him make the call without interrupting him. As soon as he was off the phone he told me this, “No I don’t give a shit about you, you know while you’re here you could be working but you’re too young, stupid and drunk to know the difference between this and what you should be doing.”
“Evidently I do sir because I attempted to work for the fucking shits and giggles of it but you couldn’t let me do that. Do you not care about the state this nation’s in?” he looked at me, “No I don’t give shit about you.” and as he looked at me bravely for the first time, I got directly in his face and made eye contact, “Really? You should read the fucking constitution or move the hell out of this country, you god damn communist.”
At this point I almost found all of this funny enough to break character, and right then, at our finest moment, the climax of the exchange; the cops showed up. They were fifteen minutes late. The first thought that popped in my head, “Run.”, whatever old man in my mind that suggested should be fired.
I took off and busted through the gate, ran to a fence and hopped it. I continued running until I stopped and realized these people know who I am, they’ve arrested me before, why the fuck even bother running? So I got some shade and sat down waiting for them. Then this big ol’ lady comes running through the neighbor’s gate waving a Glock at me telling me to stay down. I wave my hands in the air screaming “How much more down can I get I’m fucking sitting in the shade.” at that very moment the same asshole that arrested me at school a few months earlier tackled me from behind and put the cuffs on me, lifting me up by them I got my footing.
She took me to the car and I started screaming at her, asking her to shoot me. Let’s all be aware that at the time, I was very, very inebriated and therefore wasn’t thinking properly. After telling me to calm down and all that shit the entire way to El Lago Police Department she got me out of the car and I was very compliant.
For the next hour of them doing paperwork and asking me questions I asked them some questions about the constitution and the law. For those of you who don’t know, that’s a great way to piss cops off being that it’s very condescending.
Anyways they took me to Harris County and I enjoyed the shrink-wrapped bologna sandwiches and oatmeal cream pies for the next thirty-eight hours until I was bailed out by my parents. When I left I was wearing someone else’s shirt because they wouldn’t let him go to the other jail to talk to his wife unless his shirt had sleeves. I was also wearing some gigantic flip flops that a crackhead left behind.
Flipper.
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