You know, one of those things that God blessed us humans with is common sense. I find it hilarious that when the going gets tough, the tough gets going and people get stupid! I mean, take the TV show cops, or OJ Simpson for example. You ALWAYS get caught. Well, Miss and I had to learn this lesson the hard way...cold hard time Paying the Piper!
Picture it: the year was 2001, the leaves were just beginning to fall from the trees and there was just a hint of that autumn crispness in the air. It was our senior year at Milton High and of course I had one of the coveted parking spots on campus; all thanks to a podiatrist family friend who could vouch for a rare foot disorder which REQUIRED that I have a space in the student lot. "Derek, what's the difference between a BMW and a Porcupine? The PRICK's on the inside!" That's just what I needed to hear first thing in the morning as I pulled into my "stolen" parking spot.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, already late as usual. I had to make my morning stop by the vending machine on "the cool kid hall" to get a diet coke. I just couldn't make it through 1st period Trig class without it...apparently Missy couldn't make it through Latin either because there she was at the vending machine as well. You guessed it, Diet Coke. I noticed immediately her long slender legs accented with the highest heeled pair of pumps I had ever seen in my life only to be outdone by the skirt that left all the boys in the hall with googly eyes. My eyes just rolled. She did get voted "Best Legs" that year, but that's another story. Anyways, Miss and I said our usual goodbyes and see you in Euro History and all that jazz. Little did we know that this was the start to one hell of a week.
The day was progressing like any other Monday and by mid-second period Euro, we knew just the thing to kick the blues. What's that you ask? Off campus lunch, duh! Sure, it was illegal, but Missy and I were professionals at this. Why else do you think I fought so hard for that fucking parking spot? So we met at our regular spot at lunchtime and waited for the throngs to go back inside the school from break. The good thing about having Drama class with Mr. Poulos immediately following lunch is that we could slip in and out of the school undetected while the rest of the suckers were stuck in class. So we proceed to Chick-Fil-A, sunroof open, Madonna Immaculate Collection blaring through the speakers.
At the restaurant, we grabbed the usual fare: diet coke, waffle fries and chicken sandwiches complete with Polynesian sauce for me and Ketsup for Missy. For some reason, and to this day I still do not know why, we decided to take our grub to go and get back to school. Probably some rehearsal. So here we pull into the parking lot in the same manner in which we left. Like a Virgin was surely heard from the flagpole, to the stadium to the portable classrooms as I pulled into my coveted spot. Little did we know, our marvelous rent-a-cop, protector of all that was good and safe-guarder of our morals, Mr. Newman, was lurking behind the cafeteria dumpster getting in his afternoon smoke break. And here we come ladies and gentlemen; all proud, our bounty in hand! SPOTTED! Just as we rounded the corner about to be free and clear we hear the deafening "hey you two, stop" bellowing across the lot. This ladies and gentlemen, is the point where the going gets tough and Missy and I get going! Again why run? You ALWAYS get caught.
"RUN MISS!" I screamed as I darted for the door and hopefully the protection of the science wing where none dared to linger. Just then I noticed that the clacking of Missy's heels seemed to be a distant whisper on the freshly waxed floor. I turned to find her struggling with all her might to make it down the hall while keeping the 5 inchers on her feet and the bag of waffle fries in hand. "Ditch the fucking heels, Miss!" "No way, fuck you" That was our exchange and last words before shit hit the fan. I darted into Poulos' room, winded and with Diet Coke sloshed down the front of my polo. I hid in the office. Missy arrived shortly thereafter followed by a very exhausted Officer Newman. "You two, NOW" was all he could seem to muster while catching his breath. Boy, was he pissed. On our way to the Principals Office, I offered my sandwich to the portly officer in exchange for his silence. As you can imagine, he didn't find this amusing and he continued to glare at me in the waiting room until the principal was ready for us.
Reeling from our downfall from those Nine West heels (it was 2001, ok?), I had admired just 5 hours earlier, I walked in to the office with my tail between my legs. Having never been caught before, I wished at this point I hadn't left my Xanax at home. As we walked out of the office together with a pink slip for a week of detention and our food in the trash by the secretary, Missy turns to me and says with a mischievous look in her eyes "too bad about our lunch, are we on for tomorrow?" D
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