Sleepless in Seattle
'twas the first fine afternoon in April in the fine city of Seattle...

...and a friend and I got absolutely leathered in at the bar Curt Cobain was last seen alive (Linda's). About 7pm we needed food, so ordered, ate and almost immediately started feeling sleepy. The cure of course was Red Bull. Red Bull and vodka seemed a bit passe, and we'd been taking the piss out of lil'John (the OK, YEAH! WHAT? rapper) who liked a bit of the old crunk juice, crunk juice being Red Bull and Hennessey. So we had one, then another, then some doubles before everything went a bit blurry. By this point I believe the soundtrack to the evening had become "God Save The Queen" by the Sex Pistols and "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd. Over and over again. And we made a war vet friend who was depressed as all hell (Zack from Iraq).

Come midnight we left, walked back to my apartment, missed it, and ended up at the end of the street. Now here was something magical! A wobbly stop sign! After a bit more wobbling, it came out of the ground and we waved it about a bit, feeling like champs. Not wanting to really nick it we put it down and walked away. 12 steps later, five police cars appeared. Five. They must have been warming up for something because there was only a pissed English bloke, a drunk Hungarian and a paralytic American girl. They decided to do the whole shebang including some kicking, smacking against the car and the obligatory bump on the head as they shoved us, cuffed, into the cruiser.

So they booked me and the Hungarian and took us to the precinct. The Hungarian chap hates authority, so they imposed a bit more on him. I thought we were heading for the drunk tank, but instead they bundled us back in a cruiser and took us downtown to the county jail, issued us with orange jumpsuits and chucked us in a holding cell.

I was still battered at this point (around 3am), made my first prison trade (my apple for a carton of milk), talked down a rowdy homeless firestarter and made a prison friend - Raul. Then it was off to the cells. Sunday was not good. While throwing up in the toilet, I hear this voice behind me - "Choo ok man? Anyting you choo need man, choo come see me" Thanks Raul! At least I was going to be nobody's bitch with the Mexicans on my side!

In the end my friend got bailed, but couldn't get back in time to bail me so I spent the Sunday chatting to the other inmates about how English I was and how I got locked up for drinking crunk juice. Come Monday morning my friend bailed me after falsifying an email to my boss saying I was ill. Freedom!

The best thing was that six months later, the girl we were with said I had nothing to do with it! I was on the other side of the street trying to sit on a hedge telling them not to do it!

So, I did time for a crime I did not commit.

Which I reckon makes me a bona fide member of the A-Team.
(King Keepo has absolutely no idea what he's doing, Fri 6 May 2011, 14:52, 6 replies)

I feel sorry for USians.
Their cops sound like UK cops when they're told there's a riot on and they have to kill a few people.
Just hope to fuck I never need to visit the place.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 6 May 2011, 18:17, closed)