In High School, if you can’t find a vacant house at which to party, you usually end up somewhere public; parks and apartment complexes are popular choices. Mediterranean Manors, aka M&M, happened to be both.  Technically, it was a Townhouse complex with a park in the center.  I had a friend who lived in this complex, so I discovered this gold mine when I was a sophomore in High School.  The following is an account of when our “Private Party” was interrupted by Johnny Law.  Better known as The Great Escape.

(Open these Maps to follow along: Escape Path and Aerial View)

On Christmas Eve during my senior year of High School (these kinda things happen only minutes after An Hour of Prayer for a Lifetime of Sin), some friends and I needed a place where we could smoke some California Tobacco hassle-free.  So, we met up at the trusty ol’ M&M Park.  At this time, Pergola and I were the only ones in High School; we also went to different High Schools.  The others were all home for the holidays from different colleges around the country.  We were meeting here to start our evening, and then figure out where to go next.  I drove my car with a couple passengers; my buddy Guy did the same.  There were 7 of us in total:  Guy, Burn’d, Big C, Pergola, Stever, Possible Narc (the only kid I didn’t previously know), and myself.  Like usual, we sat comfortably atop one of the picnic tables and passed around the study pipe.

Somewhere amidst the second rotation, Big C notifies me that he sees two cars approaching.  I’m currently facing the water, so I can’t see what’s behind me.  Big C’s tone of voice changes as he makes a subtle announcement…

Big C  “That second car is a cop.”
Stever  “So is the first one.”

Oh shit.  Two cops trolling through a neighborhood slowly?  Not good.  Instead of continuing along the road, both cars pull onto the grass and into the park area, slowly heading straight towards us.  All signs point to fucked.  I start walking towards the water with study pipe in hand; Pergola whispers to me…

Pergola  “You gonna run?”
Me  “You bet your ass.”
Pergola  “Then take this.”

Pergola hands me a half-pound of California Tobacco; I am a team player.  I toss the study pipe somewhere in the grass, put the Cali Tobacco in my jacket, and continue walking towards the water.  There is a 2-foot drop when it turns from grass to sand; I crouch down and slowly crawl behind this sand bank.  I’ve made it about 10 yards and start to think I am home free.  All of a sudden, a spotlight hits me.

Intercom Voice  “You in the tan, FREEZE!”

I jump up, freeze, and stare into the spotlight like a deer in headlights.  I have less than a second to make a life altering decision: either put my hands up and come clean, or bolt.  I have never run so fast in all my life.  As I sprint down the beach, I attempt to toss that half-pound into one of the canoes resting along the shore.  I make a sharp left as I see a flashlight wiz passed my head, followed by an even sharper right.  Remember my friend who I said lives in this complex?  Well, good thing he never locks his front door.  I dart into his house, up the stairs and into his room.  I’m panting, sweating, and smelling like a Phish concert.

Me  “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God…”
Friend  “What?  What’s wrong?”

We both hear sirens.

Friend  “Dear God.  What the fuck did you do?”

I explain the situation as I almost slip into a panic attack.  I wait until the siren noises fade, and then I call Big C.  No answer.  Next, I call Guy.  No answer.  Suddenly, as my buzz begins to fade, I realize that it’s a terrible idea to individually call each person who’s probably being questioned by the cops right now.  I call Guy’s sister instead and tell her to drive towards the neighborhood and tell me what’s going on.  Once she arrives, she calls me back.

Sis  “Well, there’s a cop at the entrance, other than that, it doesn’t seem too bad.  I’m turning the corner right now and… Holy fuck.”
Me  “Holy fuck?  What?  What do you see!?”
Sis  “There’s, one, two, three… seven cop cars.  Yep, there’s my dumbass brother talking to the cops.”
Me  “What else?”
Sis  “They are in 2 groups of three; each group is talking to different cops.”

Me  “That can’t be good.”
Sis  “No, it can’t.  Ok, I’m gonna take off, I think it looks weird if I just slowly keep driving around in circles.”
Me  “Right, thanks a lot.”
Sis  “Sure thing.”

At this point, I know I am definitely going to jail.  Christmas behind bars?  I just can’t stop making the family proud.  The probability of 6 people delivering a consistent alibi is practically impossible.  Also, as I previously mentioned, I did not know Possible Narc.  Although my friends are solid and trustworthy, most any High School kid will throw someone under the bus in half a second when it comes to saving their own ass, especially if they don’t know the person.  Since I’ve relived this story a million times, let’s switch to their point of view.

First off, when the two original cops started chasing me, the huskier one slipped in a ditch; Needless to say, he decided to stay behind.  His embarrassment turned to anger as he pulled out his glock and told my friends, “there’s 6 of you and I have more than 6 bullets.  Don’t be stupid.”  He then proceeded to call in aerial support (a helicopter) and give the pilot my description.

Husky Cop  “We have a hot foot pursuit!  Suspect is 5’7”, 140 lbs, and wearing a tan jacket.”

Apparently the Husky Cop was also blind, because although I was wearing a tan jacket, at the time (and now) I was 5’11”, 175 lbs.  The cop who was chasing me gave up after he assumed I hopped a wall and was now running through a neighboring shopping plaza.  As the helicopter hovered above with its spotlight on, each one of my friends, with the exception of Stever, was questioned separately before being grouped together.

An important thing to remember: all of these kids were lit up like a fucking Christmas tree while being interrogated by the police.  All of the questioning revolved around me; luckily my friends are intelligent, knew exactly how to play it.  They just kept telling the cops that I had approached them because I thought I had recognized them.  They said they had no idea who I was but that I had told them my name was Ryan.  The police continued to pace around scratching their heads while trying to piece together this mystery.

The real amazing thing is that not once did the cops accuse anyone (except Burn’d; they called him “Smokey”) or even notice that all of these suspects smelled like oregano and looked like they had just used chlorine eye drops; we were literally mid-toke as the cops ambushed us.  They did however keep questioning them about my car.  My friends just kept their cool and played dumb.  Apparently a pesky neighbor had recognized my car as a frequent park visitor and phoned in the complaint.  This did shed some light on as to why the cops where there in the first place.  Like I said, M&M had become a very popular party spot.  I can recall times when we would drop kegs there and/or have full on rowdy boxing matches with no police intervention.  So it seemed very peculiar for the cops to show up when we were very calmly and quietly enjoying nature’s botanical gift.

After about 45 minutes of fruitless interrogation, and after calling in absurd amounts of back up, the fuzz had no choice but to cut my friends loose.  This seemed too good to be true; of course it was.  Right as they are free to go, one of the cops discovers the half-pound.  Apparently my attempt to throw it into a canoe did not work out as planned.  He presents the package to my friends; this is when they really put on a show.

Officer Busted  “Can you explain this?”
Guy  “What is that?”

Guy, you are hilarious.

Officer Busted  “This is a giant bag of marijuana.”
Guy  “Oh my God, are you serious?  Get that away from me, that stuff’s illegal!”

Guy, you are ridiculous.

Officer Busted  “So you fellas really can’t explain this?”
Burn’d  “Holy cow!  I bet that kid (me) was trying to sell us drugs!”

Burn’d, you are hilarious.

Officer Busted  “Oh yeah?”
Burn’d  “Must be?  And when you guys showed up he got scared and ran!”

Burn’d, you are ridiculous.

At this point, no one knows for sure if the cops are actually buying any of this shit or if they are just trying to cut their loses; they have no solid evidence that incriminates any of these so-called suspects.  Although, finding a big bag of herb can’t be good for its owner (me).  This is point when Sis drove by and gave me the details via phone.  After being separated, both groups of 3 miraculously managed to continuously spit up the exact same alibi.  Finally after about 2 hours of some serious buzz killing, the majority of the cops leave and cut all of my friends loose.  Let’s switch back to my point of view.

I’m still hold-up in my friend’s place, shaking like a crack head and now wearing his clothes; Apparently I believed changing outfits would “save the day.”  If not obvious by now, I am a dumbass.  My phone rings; it’s Burn’d.

Burn’d  “Dude!”
Me  “Dude?”
Burn’d  “Dude.”
Me  “Dude?”
Burn’d  “We just left, it’s all good.”
Me  “What?  Are you fucking serious?”
Burn’d (laughing) “Yeah man, they let us go.”
Me (crying) “What the fuck?  How did that happen?”
Burn’d  “Long story.  Hey, they kept asking about your car.”
Me  “Yeah?”
Burn’d  “Yeah, so wait a while first, then call me when you get outta there.”
Me  “Ok, sounds good.  Where are you going?”
Burn’d  “To a different park, Pergola has more weed.”

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad.

“Just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you can’t act stupid.”
- Morris “Mud” Himmel, Camp Nowhere

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for getting kicked out of several preschools.  I’m even sorrier that I was too young to understand that you had your own problems, and that the last thing you needed was to come home to a son who just got expelled for hitting his teacher with a lunch box because she wouldn’t let him go to the bathroom.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that you had to pay for years of private school.  I’m even sorrier that you had to do this because the public school system threatened to put me into classes with the “special needs” children if I did not leave.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for learning how to copy DVDs and then selling them over the internet in an attempt to turn a small profit only to have the FBI call the house barking empty threats.  I’m even sorrier that I was 12.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for breaking into my Middle School Principal’s email account and sending letters to all the teachers that said “I’m Gay” under his name.  I’m even sorrier that you had to beg, plead, and ultimately buy a new gymnasium scoreboard in order to keep me from getting expelled.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that I only pretended to take my prescription Adderall before school.  I’m even sorrier that I sold it to my friends during recess.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for splitting a liter of rum with some friends before a football game freshman year of High School, and then throwing up in a friend’s car while her mom drove us, only to later lie to you and blame it on a “bad taco salad” that I had ate.  I’m even sorrier that my friend’s dad was my science teacher, and that the car in which I puked did in fact belong to him.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that I learned how to drive when I was 14 by joyriding in your car at 2 in the morning while you were out of town.  I’m even sorrier that I was really really high when I did it.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for failing an impromptu drug test after getting in the car with you under the false pretense that you were “taking me to the mall to buy new shoes” and then somehow ending up at the doctor’s office.  I’m even sorrier that I admitted guilt only to later find out that the tests did in fact come back negative.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that you had to give me that extremely long and painful lecture on why smoking weed will eventually lead to my demise.  I’m even sorrier that I got arrested later that day for smoking weed.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that you had to go to court with me after I got arrested for smoking weed.  I’m even sorrier that I was friends with 3 other kids that we saw at the courthouse.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for getting kicked out of wrestling camp because they found a bag of pot in my bag.  I’m even sorrier that they had to call my Uncle to pick me up and actually explain what “marijuana” was to him because you guys were out of the country.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for “breaking your trust” so many times that you decided to remove the door from my room.  I’m even sorrier that I was left with no choice but to toss a towel over a pull-up bar in an attempt to create some sort of make shift shanty door as its replacement.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that I wrecked my car when I was 16 and then fled the scene of the crime.  I’m even sorrier that after you spent over an hour waking me up, the most accurate location of the car that I could give you was “at the corner of Tampa road and eleven dollars and fifty-six cents.”

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for coming home after curfew and toasting a sandwich in the conventional oven because the toaster oven was broken.  I’m even sorrier that it set off the fire alarm and when you came to investigate what had happened, you found me passed out in my room with the lights, TV, and my shoes still on.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that Rizzo and I shot out all of his neighbor’s outdoor lights, as well as a one-of-a-kind stained glass window, with a BB gun.  I’m even sorrier that neighbor happened to be a family friend and that it was Rizzo’s mom’s birthday on the day we were caught.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that I drove 100 miles in the wrong direction on my way home from a night club one night.  I’m even sorrier that after a cop pulled me over and told me to “wait for my safe ride,” I only waited for him to leave before I got right back on the road.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for sneaking out, getting drunk, and wrecking my car.  I’m even sorrier that the best explanation I could come up with was that “someone must have stole it, wrecked it, and brought it back” in the morning.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that you have had to endure all of the above.  I’m even sorrier that these are only the things that happened before I turned 18.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for the tens of thousands of dollars you have spent on my legal fees over the years.  I’m even sorrier that tens of thousands is not a typo.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad that this list only contains about 6% of the things for which I’m sorry.  I’m even sorrier that I can’t remember 94% of my life’s regrets.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for always being the ringleader of mischievous activity and not giving you some friend to blame for “negatively influencing” me.  I’m even sorrier that you didn’t realize this until about 2 weeks ago.

I’m Sorry Mom and Dad for ignoring almost every piece of advice that you have ever given me.  I’m even sorrier for the mistakes I will make in the years to come.

Love,

Your Son