Mothers day is for Handcuffs and a folding chair...

It was Saturday night, I was seventeen, and town was alive with a party!  It was the day of the annual volunteer Fireman and Policeman fish fry!  A fund raiser, packed with catfish and beer, and every underaged boy in town was ready to have at it!

My friend "Tit" and I, wait, I had better explain.  His Grandmother was German and called him "Tit" and it stuck forever.  It is of no reference to the female body, and was always just his name.  Anyway, Tit and I started the afternoon off collecting the items we would need.  Beer, smokes, beer, couple cans of hairspray and beer.  We had enough left over to fill the tank with gas and off we went.  Just to make the point clear, I can't recall (for legal purposes) where we got said beer, or whom it was that sold it too us.  So, to make a long story shorter, we:

Went to the Fish Fry

Drank

Ate

Left in late afternoon to prepare for evening dance

Drank

Drank

Smoked cigarettes

Light said can of hairspray on fire like it was a flame thrower

Lucky we did not explode with above hairspray acivity

Drank

Drove back to the Firemans/Policemans Dance

Drank

The night was great.  Good party, good people, good food and good dancing.  All was fantastic.  Even my Aunt was there with her boyfriend.  They had been drinking as well.  Tit and I were planning on staying at her house, in the basement, as the next day was Mothers day and we would be hung over.  We had to drive less then one mile to get to her house.  All was well, or was it?

Please review with me, the highly official crime scene drawing.....

As you can see, we began our transportation experience at the location marked as "dance" near the top of the map.  We were headed to my Aunts house, depicted as a simple box with the word "destination" written next to it on the bottom of the map.  Now, those two other locations are where the problems all existed.  See, we just wanted to get from the dance to my Aunts house.  Easy, no problem.  NOT!!!

Please forgive me, but I had to explain the story so many times it only comes out one way.  The way I explained it over the phone from a map I drew and faxed over.  So, here goes....

Yes Sir.  We were at the dance, and they were closing it down.  My friend and I were going to stay at my Aunts house just down the street, and so we got into the car and left the parking lot.  From the parking lot, we turned right onto the street as noted on the map.  At the intersection (there is only one intersection in the entire town.....) we did turn right again, as noted on the map.  Unfortunately, we did not steer in a left-erly direction to follow the curved road to my Aunts house.  Instead, we proceeded straight forward, crossed the sidewalk, ran over the speed limit sign, climbed the lawn that is the front yard of the county crew, shot off the concrete wall that separates the driveway from the yard, and landed square in the bed of county pick-up truck A637J.

Yes Sir, certainly.  If you notice on the map, the location marked as "Crime Scene", you will notice it is a house.  This house actually is the location for the county crew office, and where they store traffic equipment.  The front yard has a very heavy slope from the house down to the street, and had a concrete wall that was used in oder to build a driveway to park in.  In essence, if you are standing in the yard, you are looking four feet down into the driveway.  This is actually how we were able to "land" our truck into the bed of their truck.

Thank you Sir.  Upon completion of said landing, we opened our doors and fell the remainder of that distance to the driveway itself.  I was on the passenger side, and had to climb out of the driveway, at which time we sat on the grass in the yard and awaited the police.

No sir, we drank coffee with the county crew for a little while, as the police did not show up for some time.  You see, they were drunk too.

No sir, I am not being a smart-ass, that is why I am sitting here handcuffed to a folding chair at this gas station, marked as such on the map.  They stumbled me over here and left me because they could not drive me anywhere.  The State Patrol man arrived a couple of hours ago, and has contacted every person I am related to with in a 30 mile range, but they are not coming.  My aunt is one house away from the accident, which in total is less the a half block away.  We could walk there and this would all be done.

No Sir, my Aunt is violently ill and unable to come and get me.

Ill from drinking sir, with the police and firemen.

Yes sir, I could have ran and made it to her house, but I would not leave my friend.

No sir, this will never happen again.

I was fined $50.00 for underage drinking, I was released from my folding chair and sent to walk the lonely half block to my Aunts house.  Her boyfriend had tried to come, and was crawling up the sidewalk to get me.  I helped him back to the house, my Aunt was still "violently ill" from drinking, and Tit spent the night playing cribbage with his uncle, a cop.

The worst part of this story?  I had to go, with all the other hung over relatives to Grandma's for Mothers day brunch.  She was not pleased with me, and I was given the honor of sitting right next to her.