As I remember it, I was telling Ryan Dunn jokes the whole time, this was after I told everyone to shut the fuck up and remain calm. The windows were up and we were listening to Lil Wayne on a super immaculate sound system. My sister’s black 2004 BMW Coupe handled like a champ. I handled it like a professional.
I must have had a shot and ? beers in the span of a few hours. I thought of this as I exited La Crosse and entered the Pike towards La Crescent. This place is a cop hangout. It is 3 am and I am driving a BMW with no plates and 2 other occupants, all of which have been drinking. The driver is fucked. The driver is… Yours’ truly.
I knew the car had no plates. I also knew I could outrun the cops in this masterpiece. I also knew if we got pulled over it would make an incredibly funny story and I would most certainly have to do a field sobriety test, knowing the cop would recognize my name. I would either end up in jail or at my Mom’s writing about it the next day. Small town stuff.
The cop was positioned at the RV dealership just after the second bridge coming from La Crosse to La Crescent, on the left side. I could see his lights. I drove past where he waited, as I did this he turned to follow. My sister and her B. started freaking out asking me ridiculous questions like would I like some gum or would I like some water, or whatever people who freak out ask, get it? These questions do not help out, so be informed for future reference. Let the driver do what he does best. I just said, “Shut the fuck up and chill the fuck out, remain calm!”
Hands steady on the wheel, I took into account the luxury of driving a well-made german car; the woodgrain felt great on the steering wheel, the lights were works of art in the dark, the gas pedal felt as comfy as a pillow to my foot, the seat held me as if it loved me. The engine well built, faster than the police cruiser’s engine, which was directly behind us, about 3 car-lengths. He probably wasn’t running my plates cause that was one thing the car did not have. All these grandiose components and no plates.
I thought this wasn’t such a bad situation.
I drove for about 2 miles with the cop tailing me. No one moved inside the car. We came to a stop light where another car was stopped. I could not see the cop lights in the rearview anymore, and I didn’t look back the whole time for that matter, so it didn’t matter anyway. I knew the cop was gone now. I felt it, but I did not assume everything was all clear until I knew. My hands were not shaky. Kelly said the cop disappeared. Just gone. This is the moment I knew. The cop had changed lanes to follow the car next to us. Ever get that feeling where you just escaped a horrible situation? I did too.
We sat at the lights in a BMW with no plates and three baffled occupants. Everyone left us. I told Kelly to turn the fucking music up. I told her to turn it all the way up and turn on something that bumps. I must have told her 3 times.
I took a left and floored it to 1**in a 40. The acceleration of the car was enough to push our head’s back on the leather cushions, which were, by design, positioned so perfectly in this car.
I drove all the backstreets twice as if to signify a victory, there was never a victory, a couple victory laps. Kelly asked where we were going and I told her we were taking the long way home.
I think I will move back into her basement so my ex gf’s will date me again. Apparently there isn’t enough to fix with me and they like losers. Ah… Maybe not that would be boring and predictable. I think I will pass.
I think: Do I date a drug abusing stripper, a liar who is insecure about herself and needs many to feel good about what she does, or a psychopathic drama-mill with no real life goals? -Everyone is wearing a target nowadays.
Ah… Only time will tell, in the mean time go to hell. I love myself. Say something about me that I haven’t already said.
I am an asshole, mean, unstable, and determined. What else can I do to get you a learnin’?- I
I woke up to a few texts stating that I am not cool enough to hang out with. I also woke up thinking about how I had taken for granted everything this female had done for me (Penny that is). Whoops. Sometimes you get caught up in life. I still got the pictures to prove it though.
Its all good now: We is friends now-I know dis, she know dis-We is good, now.
… The morning was foggy, mentally, and cool. I woke up, took a piss, checked my phone, went up stairs and read the local paper. Downed some water, as prescribed by Ms. Laura always, and ate a ripe, slightly bruised banana. I talked with my mother and leashed Fritzy the dog for a run.
Imagine green shorts clad me with a dog at my ankles in small town; bum fuck, La Crescent. Ah… the life. I think even La Crosse would be better, maybe, maybe not. Nah.
I go to my grandmas first to clean up shit the dogs have left around her house and see her. I was literally cleaning shit again, I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the little brown spots out.
I hate animals sometimes. I want to shove their noses in what they do. I am not an animal abuser, but only in thought. I wonder if that works and forget about it. Evil thoughts might lead to something, as ambitious as I am.
My grandmother asks me when will I find a girl? I tell her most girls are crazy and that girls don’t like me cause I have a lot of friends who happen to be girls. I guess girls don’t like this. Maybe a possession thing? She agrees that girls are crazy. I reassure her that I am all right by telling her that one day a girl will find me. This is probably a lie. I crack a smile and look up from the photo album to catch my grandmother’s expression. She knows I am full of shit. We share a smile and a laugh. I give her a hug and a kiss and head to the garden to pick a small, but dense dark red tomato.
I walk back and tell her I love her 3 or 4 times as I wait for a response in between shutting the door and making sure the dogs don’t get out. Sometimes I wish they would just run away. My grandmother says they are her protection, so I let them stay.
I go to Fritzy (my mom’s dog from earlier), he is shaking and excited to see me. I think he must be cold. I ask him if he is cold. I left him strapped to the side of my dad’s 90’s model Ford Bronco.
Earlier, I thought as I walked in to my grandma’s that it would be unfortunate if the truck’s emergency brake went out and it rolled down the hill, with Fritzy attached, and crashed into a tree. I thought about a lifeless dog leashed to a crumpled truck next to a tree at the bottom of a hill. Smoke and truck parts all around. I thought about that for a second, but then I forgot it because I love Fritzy.
I lift Fritzy up and show him to my grandma as I point and wave. Fritzy looks to the window where my grandma is. I tell him to look at grandma and wave. He just looks around and acts excited. I put him on the ground and we begin our run again.
I run to my sister’s house and rap on the door for a few minutes until she unlocks it, click. She tells me I am crazy for running and asks if I am feeling sick. I tell her no and that I feel great, a lot better than earlier. She gives me a look of disbelief and starts lounging on her couch, her boyfriend stirs in the bedroom. I tell her I will see her at Aunt Barb’s and I depart.
I run by churches and smell old women’s perfume, which reminds me of death, funerals, and bingo.
At this point in my life I relate to these things fairly well; I have been to most once or twice-I have seen a few good deaths, I have been to a few spectacular funerals; however, I have unfortunately not been able to attend more than 1 or 2 bingo sessions. Drats! I will always have a date with 1,2, if not all 3 of these events at some point for the rest of my life.
I look at the sky and see dark clouds, but the sun is poking through. I think that today is a good day. I jog on with Fritzy. I see more people, old ladies and all, driving to church. Jogging has become my religion. It betters my mind. It gives me time to notice that nature and scenery make me happy. I jog past a few people and say, “Mernin”, as my palate is too dry to annunciate Morning. I keep jogging. Fritzy tries to use the lawn-bathroom. I pull him away and tell him to keep moving until we get home. Time for our day to start.
Everything in this story was fictional especially driving home from the bar in my sister’s BMW.
An after Note-
It starts out like that. Start noticing things. Some things are hidden in plan sight like a car with no plates, stuck out like a sore thumb, that hardly gets noticed. Crazy people don’t notice what they do to others. I deal with it. Family, friends, and confidants, I see them deal with it. It can be depressing, but keep your head up. Look at what you do and see if it suits you. Love you all, thanks for reading.