Busted!

This is easily one of the weirdest/craziest things to ever happen to me. Last night I was driving Joe and Katie (and myself) from the hotel where Katie was staying to the Slippery Noodle. Some time a little after 10 we left the hotel room and got into my car. I drove across the parking lot, came to a stop before entering the street, put on my turn signal, then slowly turned left onto the street. So far, so good.

Within two seconds, there was a screech of tires and two police cars were behind me with lights flashing. Joe and I exchanged incredulous glances; I had done nothing even remotely wrong in the 15 seconds we'd been in the car. I pulled over to the side of the road, put the car in park, and turned the music down. We waited. After what seemed like just a bit too long, a cop walked up to the side of the car and I rolled my window down.

Here's where it starts to get weird. Instead of strolling up to the window and asking to see my license and registration or if I knew how fast I was driving, he stood near the back door and shouted at us.

"Where did you just come from?"
"The hotel."
"Do you have any weapons?"
"What?"
"Do you have any weapons in the vehicle?"
"Uh, no."

I was pretty shocked to be asked such a question and in such a fashion. Also, he had a very thick Mexican accent, and I wasn't even sure of what I'd heard. He told us to stay there and that he'd be back. He disappeared back to the glare of lights behind us. I turned off my headlights and there we sat. We discussed what had already happened and came up with theories about what could be happening.

A few minutes later, a third car with lights on appeared around the corner and came to rest beside the others. We figured it was some sort of sting at the hotel and that my car was mistaken for someone else's. Joe suggested that I turn off the car. I said that I thought there was some length of time for which it was correct to leave the car running, and that you should turn it off if it was longer than that time. He said that for newer cars it was something of the order of about 20 seconds. So I turned off the car and we continued to wait.

We heard the unmistakable and slightly disturbing sound of guns being cocked. Like in the movies. You know, kk-chkk. That seemed odd.

"Driver!" It was a different voice, no accent. I assumed he meant me, although there were other cars around that were slowly maneuvering past the scene. "Turn the vehicle off and throw your keys out the window onto the ground!" Well, the vehicle was already off, and I found the whole thing to be pretty damn confusing, but I figured I could comply with the second part. I pulled the keys out and hesitantly tossed them out the window onto the ground.

"Put both of your hands where I can see them!" I held my hands up to the window. "Higher!" I held my hands up higher. "Now put them outside the window against the body of the car!" I put them outside the window against the body of the car. "Open the door and step out of the vehicle!" I pulled my right hand in to undo my seat belt. "Keep your hands where I can see them!" I put my hand back outside. "I have to take off my seat belt," I said meagerly. "Using your right hand, take off your seat belt, then put your hand back outside!" It seemed like sound advice, so I followed it. "Now using that same hand, open the car door from outside!" What? Okay. So I leaned over and looked and found the handle and pulled it and the car door swung ajar.

"Slowly, keeping your hands where they are, step out of the car and turn around!" I got out, slowly. As I got up, I saw the silhouettes of four or five police offers behind the cars with shotguns pointed at my face. Shotguns. That explains the kk-chkk. "Now turn around!" Jesus, I hadn't even gotten the chance to turn around, but okay. I turned around. "Lift your shirt up!" What? I lifted my shirt a little. "Higher! Let me see the other side!" I lifted it higher and turned. "Now back up slowly." I started to back up slowly, in the middle of the street with cars passing and watching, holding my god damn shirt up to my armpits, doing the moonwalk.

I peeked at the ground behind to make sure I wasn't going to stumble or anything. "Turn back around!" Right, I probably should have seen that one coming. I continued to back up, giving everyone a show of my wonderful, manly physique. "Between the cars!" I assumed he meant that I should continue to walk backwards directly in between the two cars that I was not supposed to look at. This is either very serious or I'm a contestant on some crazy new game show.

"Facing that same direction, put your hands behind your head!" I let my shirt down and put my hands behind my head. A pair of hands appeared out of nowhere and frisked me. They moved my hair around and looked at my neck. "He doesn't have a tattoo!" Yes, I don't have a tattoo. He then took my wallet. "Now get on your knees!" This is about the point where I was getting pretty pissed off about all this. Being ordered to moonwalk with your shirt up to your chest with shotguns in your face and then being told to get to your knees—without the slightest idea of what's going on—can be a little frustrating. I kneeled in the middle of the road. "Put your hands behind your back!" I did so. Almost immediately I was put into handcuffs. They felt pretty tight and not the least bit comfortable.

"We need to figure out if you're our guy. We're going to figure this out."
"Uh, okay. Here or at the station?"
"Here. Just wait."

I heard some shouting a few yards away. They were summoning Joe from the vehicle. He was being given similar treatment, although without the moonwalk peep show.

"Stand up, walk over to the curb, and sit down." With the rather surly assistance of the cop who cuffed me, I was brought standing and guided in the direction of the curb. "Now sit." I sat in the grass. Joe was led there as well. They asked who else is in the car. I told them a girl, our age. They brought Katie out. They didn't aim shotguns at her or make her give them a peepshow or make her walk backwards. They just walked her over beside us.

We were told that there had been an armed robbery just minutes ago and that my car was spotted leaving the scene; wrong place and wrong time. They were pretty sure we weren't them, but they had to be sure. One of them disappeared into a car to run our licenses.

"Where are you headed tonight?"
"The Noodle."
"Ah, the Noodle. Well, you'll have a pretty good story to share when you get there. You might have to get a few more shots."

I think he was trying for humor, but I wasn't interested. Go figure. Joe apparently found the entire situation to be most comical, and tried to jest back at the cops. He leaned over to me. "Not in a laughing mood?" I glared at him. "Not really."

They gave us back our wallets. They took off the handcuffs. They said we could go. No apologies whatsoever. "Where are my keys?" I asked. "I put your keys on the dashboard." We slowly walked back to the car, got in, and drove to the Slippery Noodle.