As some of you know, I have had my few brushes with the law. Most of them (not all) were my fault, but even so I’d have to say that my major crime was getting caught. I mean, look at the guys at Merrill Lynch and E.F. Hutton who fleeced the teachers out of their retirement by changing their money into mortgages for homeless people. Those fuckers got bonuses. Me, I get jacked for a misdemeanor possession charge and wind up going downtown because of a failure to appear warrant. it’s like they got the whole penalty system rigged to fine you for being poor. You get fined, you can’t pay it so you get sent to the joint. Like that is supposed to pay the fine? Or maybe it is. Somebody is making money on it.
Anyway, I was in a bar with my buddy Slats and we started talking more than we would because it was dollar Jager bomb night. There’s no way to drink one of those fuckers that’s not fast. Anyway, there’s this one dude at the bar watching us and I just happened to see him go out to his big SUV and pick up a radio. I can;t tell for sure, but my money was that he was an off duty cop and he was running a description on us! Both me and Slats were technically violating parole by being in a bar, but what the hell is a guy supposed to do with a Saturday?
Anyway, we high-tailed it out the back of the place. A little later, sure enough, we saw rollers reflecting off the front. That SOB had called five-oh on us.
Next time we’ll just buy the Jager, I guess. Safer that way.