How smoking kept me out of jail
That’s right boys and girls, smoking can save your tender ass. Its happened to me, it can happen to you.
Well I guess you want the explanation to my sage advice. So listen my children and you shall hear, not the story of Paul Revere, but Me. SO pull up a chair, and light up if you’ve got it, as this is the point of my grand tale.
Walking home early from work, I left at 11 o’clock with the intention of getting home before 11:30 to greet the delivery men. That’s a 20 minute walk from work, to pick up smokes, and be home. But today, today there was a twist in my mundane adventure. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It was a bright sunny morning, with the right amount of shade. The birds were out and tweeting away their melodies in the wind….but you don’t care about that stuff, unless you are Anne. He point of this care bear-est diatribe is, I was kind of spacey and enjoying my walk. When I am spacey, my obfuscate kicks in full force. And the set up is established.
While walking, about 2 blocks from the turn into my new neighborhood there are several cop cars. Well they were at the cross walk, and I didn’t want to go across the street and get in anyone’s way, and I thought there was another street crossing down the road by my subdivision.
Well I was wrong, so I ran across the street to the median, and walk to the edge of it waiting for traffic to clear up so I can cross the rest of the way. And a cop car passes, while I am standing still waiting, and because my obfuscate was up, he gets surprised and thinks I jumped out of the bushes, he pulls over and calls me over… slowly, with my hands where he can see them.
I do as I am asked. However when I give him my id, thinking I am in trouble for J-walking and that this cop is being a bit of an ass, so I was being extra cooperative.
He asks me some questions, gets my info, asks me in detail, what I was doing, where I was going, from where. He searches my bag and at one point I put my hands in my pocket, as that is my common idle standing position, to which he jumps back and informs me “keep you hands out of your pockets, where I can see them, it makes me nervous.” I don’t argue although I get a bit nervous. I mean I watch Law and Order… this is cop speak for “your ass is so a dart board of violation.”
However, the news turns good as he searches my bag. The one with my carton of smokes. Normally, I don’t save recites. However, the asshole who rang me up at the corner store pissed me off so I threw it in the bag when I left. It had the time I was rung up on there… proof that I was unable to have committed that armed robbery…. Oh, that’s when he informed me that he though I might have committed an armed robbery down the road. So naturally my initial reaction is along the lines of “O_O”
He tells me if he has any further questions he will call me. And then proceeds to follow me into my neighborhood and drive down to the end to make sure I walk to my house and didn’t lie. Which annoyed me, cause he could have just given my a ride.
Moral of this story? Your ass is more important than your lungs. Smoke away. And thank your crazy foreign quickie mart vendor for the cigarettes that are keeping you out of jail.
Now I go to smoke.
-Kiyoskia
Well I guess you want the explanation to my sage advice. So listen my children and you shall hear, not the story of Paul Revere, but Me. SO pull up a chair, and light up if you’ve got it, as this is the point of my grand tale.
Walking home early from work, I left at 11 o’clock with the intention of getting home before 11:30 to greet the delivery men. That’s a 20 minute walk from work, to pick up smokes, and be home. But today, today there was a twist in my mundane adventure. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It was a bright sunny morning, with the right amount of shade. The birds were out and tweeting away their melodies in the wind….but you don’t care about that stuff, unless you are Anne. He point of this care bear-est diatribe is, I was kind of spacey and enjoying my walk. When I am spacey, my obfuscate kicks in full force. And the set up is established.
While walking, about 2 blocks from the turn into my new neighborhood there are several cop cars. Well they were at the cross walk, and I didn’t want to go across the street and get in anyone’s way, and I thought there was another street crossing down the road by my subdivision.
Well I was wrong, so I ran across the street to the median, and walk to the edge of it waiting for traffic to clear up so I can cross the rest of the way. And a cop car passes, while I am standing still waiting, and because my obfuscate was up, he gets surprised and thinks I jumped out of the bushes, he pulls over and calls me over… slowly, with my hands where he can see them.
I do as I am asked. However when I give him my id, thinking I am in trouble for J-walking and that this cop is being a bit of an ass, so I was being extra cooperative.
He asks me some questions, gets my info, asks me in detail, what I was doing, where I was going, from where. He searches my bag and at one point I put my hands in my pocket, as that is my common idle standing position, to which he jumps back and informs me “keep you hands out of your pockets, where I can see them, it makes me nervous.” I don’t argue although I get a bit nervous. I mean I watch Law and Order… this is cop speak for “your ass is so a dart board of violation.”
However, the news turns good as he searches my bag. The one with my carton of smokes. Normally, I don’t save recites. However, the asshole who rang me up at the corner store pissed me off so I threw it in the bag when I left. It had the time I was rung up on there… proof that I was unable to have committed that armed robbery…. Oh, that’s when he informed me that he though I might have committed an armed robbery down the road. So naturally my initial reaction is along the lines of “O_O”
He tells me if he has any further questions he will call me. And then proceeds to follow me into my neighborhood and drive down to the end to make sure I walk to my house and didn’t lie. Which annoyed me, cause he could have just given my a ride.
Moral of this story? Your ass is more important than your lungs. Smoke away. And thank your crazy foreign quickie mart vendor for the cigarettes that are keeping you out of jail.
Now I go to smoke.
-Kiyoskia