Flightstopper wrote:assateague wrote:gila-river wrote:assateague wrote:The only thing I've ever stolen, produce-wise, is watermelons and pumpkins, and they both ended very, very badly.
Sounds like a story. We know the watermelon one. I gotta hear this pumpkin debacle:lol:
Nowhere near as entertaining.
Back in college, a buddy and I were boozing pretty good. I was 21, he was 19 (remember this- it comes into play later). We had left a party way outside town, and were on our way back to campus. I was completely shitfaced and my buddy was pretty hammered. He wanted to drive, so I said sure.
On the way back, we passed a pumpkin patch, and decided to "get" pumpkins for everybody in the dorm. So we pulled into the field (not into "the parking lot", "the lane", or "the road", the field) in my bright red 1981 Ford Escort. This was around 1990 or so, for reference. We loaded up as many as it could hold, in the hatch, backseat, floorboards, everywhere. I even had one in my lap. And we go about our merry way.
About 10 minutes later, I have to piss. "Pull over" I say, so he does. I get out, set the pumpkin on the roof, and proceed to piss. This is a very rural area in central PA. Not like I was pissing in town or something. Just before I finished pissing, a car comes over the hill towards us, and it's a town cop. In a moment of clarity, I grab the pumpkin, dive back in, and yell "GO, GO, GO!". And he does, bless his heart.
Well, the cop pulls a u and hits his lights, at which point Galoob floors it, thinking if we can make it to the edge of town, we can ditch and run. It's about 8 miles. And we're in a 10 year old Ford Escort loaded with a quarter ton of pumpkins. Needless to say, the cop was pretty much right on our ass in no time, and because he's 19 and drunk, he's yelling at me "SWITCH PLACES WITH ME, YOURE OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK". While driving about 80 down winding, hilly country roads with a cop 20 feet behind us. "Nope, ain't happening, you wanted to drive, DRIVE".
We finally pulled over after about 5 miles or so, when it became pretty damn obvious we weren't making it back to town. He came up, asked for the info, asked if we'd been drinking. Which I thought was amusing, seeing as how he had just shined his light in the back window and saw the pumpkins piled darn near to the ceiling.
He asked where we were coming from, and I didn't want the guy having the party to get busted, so told him a local bar where my girlfriend worked. (This is important too- remember it) Then, for no apparent reason, he tells us to get in the back, he was driving us back to campus, and the car was to stay there all night. Said he'd check, and if it was gone before tomorrow morning, he'd arrest us both. We were both dumbfounded, and just knew we were going to jail, but he took us back to campus. As he was dropping us off, told us we had to take the pumpkins back where we got them and bring a note to the police station from the farmer saying they'd been returned, or he'd arrest us.
We were still amazed at how being drunk underage, speeding, drunk driving, reckless driving, evading arrest, and thievery resulted in nothing more than a ride home and promise of a "sorry" note. But we gladly took it. Next day, got a ride back to the car, and sheepishly dropped off the pumpkins. Gave the farmer $50 and a bottle of bourbon, since that was the last thing we wanted, and he chuckled and signed our note. We dropped it off at the station, where they chuckled, and went back to the dorm, still not believing we got off scot free.
Flash forward 2 months or so. Turns out, he was banging my girlfriend, a waitress at the bar we mentioned coming from. Didn't know I was the boyfriend, but was afraid that she was the one that served a minor since she went to college with us, and let two guys drive away drunk, didn't want her to get in trouble. I broke up with her, then he did, and I remained charges-free. All's well that ends well, I always say
Lucky SOB. Almost as good as "you know Jim?"
Explain that story please.