SPREAD EM!!
I’m sitting alone in my apartment. My wife and daughter are visiting my parents for the week. I had to stay and work.
I’m remembering the time I was made to “spread eagle” and was frisked by a police officer.
It was Saturday night. There were about 8-10 of us, including the youth ministry summer intern, sitting around my friend’s house. We had spent much of the summer sitting around his house. We played pool, basketball, playstation, chilled in the hot tub, and despite the virtual cornucopia of things to do at my friend’s house the 8-10 high school boys (and one college student) were bored.
I don’t recall who suggested it first, but it was unanimously accepted as a good idea. We would go get shoe polish at a store on the way, and then we would use the shoe polish to write on the windows of the car of my ex-girlfriend. She was still a good friend and we decided to write funny things that would not make her angry.
Yes, it was agreed that this should be our activity for the evening. So, with the youth ministry intern leading the way we situated ourselves in three cars and headed toward the house. Her car was always parked on the street and it would be an easy target.
We slowly turned the corner and turned the car lights off. We parked several houses down and made our way back to her car. We began to compose our humorous masterpieces upon the windows of the VW Fox.
As I finished writing “Cautious Driver” next to the driver’s side circle on the windshield I saw it. Or maybe I heard it first, because the tires on the car screeched as it came to a halt. I looked up just in time to see the lights begin to flash on the Garland Police car.
Immediately, each of the 8-10 boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) froze momentarily … then each of the 8-10 high school boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) scattered in all different directions, running as fast as their 14-17 (21) year old legs would carry them.
The policeman spun his car around and came toward my ex-girlfriend’s house and car. Almost as fast as the dispersion had begun, it ended. We all knew that it would be silly to run from the cops. Though, technically we were committing vandalism, it was only shoe polish and we were friends with the person who’s car it was. We all turned around to face the music.
Nervously, we turned and made our way back toward the police car. The cop got out of the car yelling unintelligibly, and then yelled into his walky-talky, “I NEED BACKUP!”
What? Backup? “HANDS ON THE HOOD!”
What?
“SPREAD YOUR LEGS!”
What?
Seriously, we were all told to put our hands on the hood and spread our legs. Obviously, there was not enough room for all of us 8-10 high school boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) to spread out on the hood of the car, until the second cop car, presumably the backup, tore around the corner, lights flashing, and came to a screeching stop, blocking the entire street. Several of us made our way to the second car.
Admittedly, I was scared at this point. I was ready to be cooperative, apologetic, and wax the police car if that would keep me out of trouble. That was not, however, the mindset of some of the others.
“What are you boys doing?”
“We were just shoe-polishing the car.”
“Well why were you running?”
“You scared us.”
“NEVER RUN FROM THE COPS!”
“Well, you scared us!”
“When you ran I thought you were stealing the car!”
“WITH SHOE-POLISH?”
“DON’T GET SMART WITH ME!!”
I couldn’t believe the nerve of my comrades. Can you really talk back to cops and come away without having to pay bail? Evidently you can. The cops went on to berate the youth ministry summer intern for not being responsible, taking minors out after curfew, and stealing cars with shoe-polish.
Eventually, we were released with no repercussions. I guess we wouldn’t have all fit in the back of two cop cars. It was interesting that the 20 minutes of yelling, screeching tires, and flashing lights didn’t wake my ex-girlfriend or her family. It wasn’t until the next morning at church that my ex-girlfriend found out about the huge ordeal outside her window the previous night.
And not until years later did any of our parents find out about the night that we were made to place our hands on the hood and spread eagle.
Two weeks ago I got a call from my friend Chad. Chad and I have been great friends for years. He was there that night. He left a message on my voicemail. It said:
“Dude, remember that night when we were shoe-polishing Hayley’s car and that cop caught us and we started to run, then we stopped and went back? We should have kept running! That fat-ass cop couldn’t have caught all of us, we could have gotten away. That’s all I wanted. We should have kept running!”
That would have been fine with me; the cop wouldn’t have had a record of my presence. I rode there in Chad’s truck!
I’m remembering the time I was made to “spread eagle” and was frisked by a police officer.
It was Saturday night. There were about 8-10 of us, including the youth ministry summer intern, sitting around my friend’s house. We had spent much of the summer sitting around his house. We played pool, basketball, playstation, chilled in the hot tub, and despite the virtual cornucopia of things to do at my friend’s house the 8-10 high school boys (and one college student) were bored.
I don’t recall who suggested it first, but it was unanimously accepted as a good idea. We would go get shoe polish at a store on the way, and then we would use the shoe polish to write on the windows of the car of my ex-girlfriend. She was still a good friend and we decided to write funny things that would not make her angry.
Yes, it was agreed that this should be our activity for the evening. So, with the youth ministry intern leading the way we situated ourselves in three cars and headed toward the house. Her car was always parked on the street and it would be an easy target.
We slowly turned the corner and turned the car lights off. We parked several houses down and made our way back to her car. We began to compose our humorous masterpieces upon the windows of the VW Fox.
As I finished writing “Cautious Driver” next to the driver’s side circle on the windshield I saw it. Or maybe I heard it first, because the tires on the car screeched as it came to a halt. I looked up just in time to see the lights begin to flash on the Garland Police car.
Immediately, each of the 8-10 boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) froze momentarily … then each of the 8-10 high school boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) scattered in all different directions, running as fast as their 14-17 (21) year old legs would carry them.
The policeman spun his car around and came toward my ex-girlfriend’s house and car. Almost as fast as the dispersion had begun, it ended. We all knew that it would be silly to run from the cops. Though, technically we were committing vandalism, it was only shoe polish and we were friends with the person who’s car it was. We all turned around to face the music.
Nervously, we turned and made our way back toward the police car. The cop got out of the car yelling unintelligibly, and then yelled into his walky-talky, “I NEED BACKUP!”
What? Backup? “HANDS ON THE HOOD!”
What?
“SPREAD YOUR LEGS!”
What?
Seriously, we were all told to put our hands on the hood and spread our legs. Obviously, there was not enough room for all of us 8-10 high school boys (including the youth ministry summer intern) to spread out on the hood of the car, until the second cop car, presumably the backup, tore around the corner, lights flashing, and came to a screeching stop, blocking the entire street. Several of us made our way to the second car.
Admittedly, I was scared at this point. I was ready to be cooperative, apologetic, and wax the police car if that would keep me out of trouble. That was not, however, the mindset of some of the others.
“What are you boys doing?”
“We were just shoe-polishing the car.”
“Well why were you running?”
“You scared us.”
“NEVER RUN FROM THE COPS!”
“Well, you scared us!”
“When you ran I thought you were stealing the car!”
“WITH SHOE-POLISH?”
“DON’T GET SMART WITH ME!!”
I couldn’t believe the nerve of my comrades. Can you really talk back to cops and come away without having to pay bail? Evidently you can. The cops went on to berate the youth ministry summer intern for not being responsible, taking minors out after curfew, and stealing cars with shoe-polish.
Eventually, we were released with no repercussions. I guess we wouldn’t have all fit in the back of two cop cars. It was interesting that the 20 minutes of yelling, screeching tires, and flashing lights didn’t wake my ex-girlfriend or her family. It wasn’t until the next morning at church that my ex-girlfriend found out about the huge ordeal outside her window the previous night.
And not until years later did any of our parents find out about the night that we were made to place our hands on the hood and spread eagle.
Two weeks ago I got a call from my friend Chad. Chad and I have been great friends for years. He was there that night. He left a message on my voicemail. It said:
“Dude, remember that night when we were shoe-polishing Hayley’s car and that cop caught us and we started to run, then we stopped and went back? We should have kept running! That fat-ass cop couldn’t have caught all of us, we could have gotten away. That’s all I wanted. We should have kept running!”
That would have been fine with me; the cop wouldn’t have had a record of my presence. I rode there in Chad’s truck!
Labels: Humor
posted by Cody at 12:13 AM
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