Anyway, I was driving a couple of miles or so from my house when I got rear-ended. I checked my mirror and saw that I had been hit by one of Madison's finest in a squad car. Now you may not be familiar with my upbringing in the mean streets of a small metropolis in Northwestern Wisconsin, but let me tell you, when I saw those blueberries and cherries, those days in the street came rushing back to me. The memory of being unjustly treated like a criminal just because of the color of my skin and the way that I dressed seemed as fresh in my mind as the last crime I committed.
As soon as I saw the Five-O I thought to myself, "Oh shit the man just tried to run me off the road and in five minutes I'm gonna be nipples deep in cops, drug sniffing dogs, and SWAT!" So I toss my spliff out the window, swallow my remaining shrooms, and tuck my gat under the seat out of view. About that time the transvestite, midget, hooker in the passenger seat starts freaking out. I cut her restraints loose and tell her to pull down her goddamn cutoff jean shorts lower because I could see her penis. Then she starts going on and on about how Ernesto, her pimp, is going to be super pissed if he has to bail her out of jail again. Then I'm all like, "Bitch just be cool! We'll just use the Eddie Murphy defense!" Now the 8 ball I just scored with my last money I'm not going to toss out the window, so I have the tranny use a half-empty whiskey bottle to start shoving cocaine in my ass like some deranged Whack-a-mole game. Then before the officer could make it to the window, I washed down a couple of tabs of acid from a forty and changed the radio from a 2Pac CD to NPR.
As I'm contemplating making a run for it OJ-in-a-Bronco-style, I realize that I forgot to refill my tank on my hoopty the last time I used my nitrous. Plus I really didn't want to be stuck on the lamb with with the tranny and I didn't have a shovel and lye with me. So I figured I'd face the music. My only hope was that I'd end up with a Cool Hand Luke type situation where, while in prison, I end up winning the begrudging yet heartfelt respect of my prison mates and we end up singing chain gang tunes together (yes, I am aware how the movie ends). This as apposed to, insert any other prison movie here, with beatings and sodomy.
Meanwhile, officer Knievel limp drags his way up to the window and starts apologizing. Boy were the tranny and I relieved. It turns out he was just distracted typing some perp stuff into his computer and he smacked my ride like Chris Brown on Rhianna. He really wasn't trying to ram me off the road. He even got the worst of it. Check out the crime scene photos below (mine is the one that is not a squad car).
It even turns out that the officer was pretty cool. He didn't even ask why a non-hipster player like myself was transporting a case of Pabst. Just goes to show that good things happen to good people. Maybe some day, you too can be lucky enough to be hit by a city employee.
