Fuck My Liver

The night ended like most nights end when I hang out with Sean: with us too shitty to talk to women. We always turned the night into a contest to see who can get fucked up the worst. I think I won this particular night. It was time to head home, but both of us felt like we still had some drinking to do. Luckily, there was a run-down grocery store on the way back to Sean’s. We stopped and picked up a case of beer.

Sean: I betcha $20 you can’t get on top of that building.
Me: Really? $20? No problem.

Across the street was a building that he dared me to climb on top of. It was only two stories tall, so it couldn’t be too hard. With the case of beer tucked under my arm, I proceeded to climb up the trellises on the side of the building.
I reached the overhang on the top of the first floor and pulled myself onto the top. I ran around to the back of the building where there was an air conditioning unit that I hopped on and jumped up onto the roof. I ran to the front to scream at Sean.

Me: Hey faggot, you owe me $20!
Sean: (flicking me off) Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now get down here—I want a beer!
Me: No way. This is great! If you want a beer, you have to climb up here and get one. Sean: Seriously? I swear, I fucking hate you!

Once he got on the roof, he realized what I was talking about. We decided that it would be a good idea to stay up there and drink some beer for a little while. We were finishing beers and tossing the empty cans over the side into the parking lot. There weren’t any cars around, so we didn’t worry about breaking anything.
We crushed a can to play soccer on the roof. We were running around kicking an empty beer can, being loud as shit. Sean’s dumb ass kicked the can over the side of the building. I stuck my head over the side to see where it landed. I quickly realized that we weren’t alone.

Me: Sean, we’re screwed. There are like a million (in reality, about seven) cops down there.
Sean: You kiddin’ me? What the fuck?
Me: Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do: we are gonna sit at the corner of the roof and be as quiet as we possibly can. After awhile, the piggies will think that we are gone and will leave. Then we can jump down and run home.
Sean: Good idea!

The thoughts of a drunk mind are truly amazing. We thought this plan was foolproof. We managed to sit there and not say a word to each other, but an occasional laugh or beer can cracking open kept breaking the silence. In other words, we weren’t being quiet at all. I heard another siren in the distance. I figured it was another police car heading over to help out the officers in the parking lot.

As I peered over the two-foot wall that surrounded the top of the building, I could see that the siren was attached to a large truck that had red and white lights on top of it. The drunk thinking took over again. We got excited as hell.

Me: Dude, it’s a fire truck! Something must be on fire down the street.
Sean: Sweet!
Me: So the officers will have to leave to go help with the fire rescue. As soon as they do, we can jump down and run home.
Sean: Fuck, yeah! This is awesome!

The fire truck pulled into the parking lot. A few minutes went by and nothing, just red and blue lights lighting up the parking lot. The next thing we saw was the top of a fireman’s ladder with a police officer on the top. He stepped off the ladder onto the roof of the building, followed by two other officers.

Officer: Drinking on top of a funeral home? What the hell is wrong with you boy? Are you stupid or something?
Me: I’m not the one that needed a fire truck to get on the roof.

Wrong answer. He immediately slapped the handcuffs on me. Sean was escorted down the ladder by the other officers while the head officer made me pick up all of our soccer balls (empty beer cans). I kicked them all into a pile by the top of the ladder.

Officer: Alright, I’m going to un-cuff you so you can throw these cans down to the parking lot.

As I looked over the side, I noticed that Sean was handcuffed sitting on the curb directly below us.

Me: Would it be cool if I threw them on my friend down there. I mean, he is right there.

The officer looked over the side of the building and then looked back at me.

Officer: Sure, why not? May as well have a little fun before you’re in jail.

This was the coolest pig ever! We both grabbed a few beer cans and threw them at Sean. We had a good laugh then he slapped the handcuffs back on me. My fun was over. We were still so drunk that we thought the experience was hilarious. The ride to jail wasn’t long enough. The officer helped us out of the car and into the building. Sean went into the fingerprinting room first while they took my possessions.

Prison Guard: Alright son, I’m going to need everything in your pockets, your belt, hat and your shoe laces.
Me: Seriously? I know this is standard operating procedure but do you really think I am gonna hang myself over something like this?

Having to take my shoe laces out was the worst part; for some reason it really pissed me off. I got over it pretty fast, though. Sean came out of the fingerprinting room and gave me a heads up about the guard that was taking fingerprints and pictures.

Sean: Hey man, that chick in there hates her life and isn’t amused by us at all.
Me: Perfect!

I stumbled into the room to find a female prison guard in her mid-thirties that didn’t look like she had dated much. She might be fun to fuck with. She met me with a key to take off my cuffs.

Me: You’re eyes are beautiful.
Guard: Quiet, please.
Me: We should really go out sometime.
Guard: Sir, please be quiet and step in front of the backdrop. I am going to take your picture.
Me: Can we get a shot of the two of us when you are done taking my pic? A couple’s pic, if you will.

She was not impressed, nor was she turned on. She pulled the cuffs out of her pocket and placed them back on my wrists. Not amused by anything I said or did, she cranked them closed tight as hell.
I moseyed back out to the main booking room. The officer that arrested us got a look on his face like what the fuck did you do in there? The female guard had handcuffed me backwards to show her displeasure in my sense of humor. Instead of being handcuffed palm to palm she handcuffed my hands back to back. The arresting officer laughed a little and fixed my cuffs. He was a pretty cool cop (as far as cops go).
Walking down the hallway we were instructed to—as they so eloquently put it—“shut the hell up!” The first jail cell on the left was an eye-opening experience. A gentleman was lying on the concrete floor of the jail cell, face down, completely naked. He covered himself with the mattress pads from all of the beds in his cell. This gentleman must have weighed at least 360 pounds. I wasn’t going to fuck with him.
We arrived at our cell and were happy to see that we had a neighbor, but were soon informed that he was a crackhead, so we shouldn’t pay much attention to him. We spent the night laughing our asses off about all of the fucked up shit we had done in the past and how this is what we got busted for.
Morning rolled around which meant one thing: breakfast. Nothing quite like some good ol’ breakfast in jail. We were still pretty shitty from the night before, so when the guard approached with our breakfast we started heckling her.

Me: I ordered my eggs over easy, can’t you take an order?
Sean: I wanted pancakes, what is this shit?
Guard: Oh I heard about you two. Apparently ya’ll had way too much fun getting arrested.

There was a shift change during the night and I imagine the guards and officers that checked us in had told the morning shift about how drunk and retarded we were. Around 9:00 am, we were bailed out by our friend Derrick. The guard escorted us downstairs to retrieve our possessions. I am guessing they don’t get many fun drunks in jail, I’m glad we could entertain them for a few hours.
Our court date was set for Tuesday morning. Sean went home, as did I. Time to rest up; I had to be on my best behavior for the judge. We arrived at court on Tuesday morning and we waited patiently to receive our fate. The officer that arrested us sat with us before we were called in front of the judge.

Arresting Officer: Hey guys, I’m going to suggest that the judge give both of you a short probationary period. Both of you are well-behaved young men that were just acting stupid that night, right?
Me: Yeah!
Sean: Oh yeah!

This cop arrested us but knew that we weren’t trying to cause any damage or steal anything. The man in front of us was charged with trespassing, the same thing our ticket was for. The judge sentenced him to 45 days in prison—oh shit! This wasn’t going to be good. We approached the front of the courtroom and stood before the judge. He read the charges against us and asked us for our pleas. The arresting officer stepped in.

Arresting Officer: Your honor, these young men were not trying to vandalize nor damage any part of the property. They were just acting stupid.
(He never mentioned the alcohol or throwing beer cans.)
Judge: Gentlemen, how do you plea? Both: Guilty.
Judge: Thank you for being honest. I am giving each of you a 60-day probationary period. Stay out of trouble for 60 days, and this will be removed from your record. However, if you get in trouble in the next 60 days, you will return to serve the 45-day punishment in jail.
Both: Yes, sir.

We couldn’t believe it. How lucky were we? I went home relieved that I wasn’t in jail. Being the intelligent human beings that we are, Sean and I decided that we were going out on Friday night to celebrate.
Friday night rolled around and it was on. We were throwing down in celebration. No beer tonight; bourbon and Coke all the way, ‘cause that’s a good idea. We knew one of the bartenders at the bar we were going to. He hooked it up all the time. The drinks were going down like water. I was on the dance floor dancing for a good 45 minutes to an hour with whoever would walk in my personal space (and by personal space, I mean if they had tits). As I was dancing, a large gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.

Bouncer: Sir, its time for you to leave.
Me: Why? I’m having a blast!
Bouncer: I can see that, sir, but you’re not wearing a shirt.
Me: (confused) What? Where the hell did it go?
Bouncer: I’m not sure, nor do I care. Let’s go, you’re outta here!

The bouncer escorted me down the stairs to the street. The police were outside on the sidewalk. Oh shit! It hadn’t even been three full days and I was going to get arrested again and have to serve my 45 days in jail. Fuck that! As I stepped out of the bar, I made eye contact with one of the officers standing outside. I smiled, nodded my head and quickly walked by him. I got about 35 yards away and started sprinting. I ran the entire way home. There was no way I was going back to jail…that week.

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