At the same Mardi Gras I mentioned earlier, it was a spur of the moment thing and the four of us took off without any plans on where we were going to stay, deciding we’d just sleep in the car (old Lincoln Continential, HUGE boat) if we had to. We did.
At dawn I woke up to find my bud Mike careening down I-10 East with us, I was like “pull off the damn road idiot” as he was tipsy, so we did just before the bridge to Slidell.
After we got off the interstate, Mike pulled into a little strip mall where miracles of miracles, a huge gang bust was going on, about a half dozen police cruisers and lorries were there along with about 20+ African American (this will become relevant later in story) gangbangers getting cuffed.
Mike decided we’d better get out of there, and the only immediate way out avoiding the crowd and police was through a Popeye’s drivethrough lane. Unfortunately, during the evening’s cleanup, the Popeye’s staff had been tossing garbage bags out of the drivethrough window as the dumpster was close by, so the path was blocked.
“No problem!” thinks Mike, “I’ll just try and ease the Continental around them by driving up on the foot-tall curb bordering the drivethrough lane.” He then attempts this, and of course all kinds of metal-grinding cacophony ensues.
Everyone present stops what they are doing and looks at us. Everyone. So after a min or so, Mike decides this isn’t such a good idea and throws it in reverse to back out of the drivethrough lane in order to find some other means of egress. He backs straight up, unfortunatly the lane is sorta curved and we go straight back into the giant menu. That was it.
The cops swarm us, I’m pissed off at the whole affair. They cuff Mike, Steve then decides that he needs to throw up RIGHT NOW and does so on the drivethrough landscaping, again in front of the whole crowd. I’m standing there, totally pissed off because there was no reason we should even be there in this situation and start pacing around, cursing.
Then I get the bright idea to make a run for it. I start edging toward the gangbangers, trying to blend in, trying to put them between me and the car scene in order to slink away.
Of course, I’m about a 6’4" white guy trying to blend in with 20+ cuffed African Americans, and the police immediately spot me and tell me to get back over here. All the gangbangers think my escape attempt was hilarious, for obvious reasons.
Anyway, the police bust Mike for public intoxication and destruction of personal property, of all things, not DUI. They then ASK me if I’m sober enough to drive, I say yes (true), and they let me drive off with the rest of my buds. We hit the first Days Inn parking lot I find and crash out.
Bailing Mike out is a whole other story, involving drag queens and guys in cop uniforms with butt cut out.