From "B-Sides: rarities and unreleased works, vol. 01" (2013)
"My Night In Jail" (2013)
I'm a naturally anxious person. When I realized that older graduates from college were coming back in town for Homecoming, I got nervous. You see, I haven't graduated yet. At 27, I'm older than most of them, and it hurt me to see them come back for a nostalgia trip while this is still my life. So I avoided seeing them on campus. I felt horrible for seeing a familiar face and pretending like I didn't and walking the other way, but it's what I did.
Friday night, I was feeling dejected about how I had acted earlier. A friend posted on Facebook that he would be at a local bar. A few others liked the status and I saw this as my opportunity to make amends for earlier. I would see people and interact with them, with the added bonus of a little "liquid courage" to help stifle any awkwardness.
Long story short, I went to the bar and saw a couple people I knew. It was a decent-enough time. At around 2 am I walked back to my car. A friend wanted me to meet him at another bar closer to his house and mine. I started driving down the long, winding back road. I'm a naturally slow driver and I always get a little uncomfortable when people are behind me. I saw two or three cars behind me, so I sped up. That was a mistake.
I see the police lights go on behind me. "Shit," I think to myself as I pull over into a conveniently-placed parking lot. My window doesn't roll down, so I crack my door open and explain that to the officer. He says it's okay. He adds, "I pulled you over because I noticed your registration was expired." I say okay and he walks away. Relief hits me, but it's short lived as I hear in the distance "I smell a strong odor."
He asks me if I was drinking. I tell him I just left the bar. He asks where I'm going. The wrong answer is "another bar," so I tell him I'm going home. I make sure to tell him it's right down the road.
He asks me to step out of the car. There are three other officers there, along with the guy who pulled me over. He talks to me for a minute before getting the breathalyzer gun and having me blow. It's a surprisingly light atmosphere, with the cops laughing and talking. One of the cops guesses that I'd blow a .09, which is above the legal .08 limit. I laugh and say, "I'm shooting for a .07." He laughs and I stop listening after I hear "Point One" come out of his mouth, because any number after that doesn't matter. I'm screwed.
Or am I? He's talking to me and being cool, asking where I live. Another cop shines his light into my car and says he sees a bottle cap. The cop asks if I have beer in the car. I told him the truth - I didn't know how long I would be out and wanted to make sure I had beer in case I missed the 2 a.m. shutoff time. He told me he understood. That is, until he went over and saw that one was opened and emptied (presumably down my throat).
"You've had a little too much to drink tonight," he begins. "I'm gonna need you to put your hands behind your back."
Well, shit. Now I'm arrested.
* * *
Check out my book if you want to hear about my ride in the police car and what it's like to fall asleep in jail. The link is below. It's only $3.99 and can be downloaded to any Kindle tablet, or a Kindle app which is available on a computer or phone.
CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE "B-SIDES: RARITIES AND UNRELEASED WORKS, VOL. 01"