Monday, January 16, 2006

Columbia 301, respond...

To: The Department of Weird Activities and Odd Happenings.
From: Agent 2101

Columbia, Mo - Jan 15 & 16 between the hours of 11 p.m. and 2 a.m.

Begin Narrative: Much like any other night here in the Temple my attorny and I found ourselves drinking much more than we had anticipated. Originally, I had planned to have only one drink while he ate dinner at the kitchen table and we mocked the unholy rodents that have returned to our home.

But, much like the rest of my life, one drink is never enough. We managed to coax our third roommate from his room and told him he also needed to drink with us to celebrate god knows what.

Three bottles of champaign and half a bottle of vodka later, we all were to a point where we were conduting some of hte higest of intelectual debate: who was the better James Bone (see a few posts back for my arguments), who was the better Batman, does the movie make the character better or does the character make the movie better?

These were the pressing issues that we faced and we battled them out and then settled our differences like men - by daring eachother to piss off the balcony or into a trashcan set up in the middle of the living room.

We opted to toss poker chips into the trash can.

Still, with that much vile liquor corsing through your body, you do not end the night so early - as I had planned to do originallu so both my attorney and I could get up early and prepare for another stellar semester of academic success.

Instead It was time to play with my new toy, the police scanner, and see what this horrid little town was up too on a Sunday night in the wee hours of the morning.

"Columbia 331, report of 51-year-old woman with shortness of breath requesting assistance..."

"Columbia 344, we have a report of a woman stranded at the intersection of Stadium and Broadway going north. Can you respond."

The simple banter and cold words between the county joint communications and the street police was enough entertainment that we would have been content. But that is not how we roll here.

"Columbia 301, report of a noise compliant at 1614 Anthony with possible minors drinking on the premiss, can you respond?"

A shock ran through all four of us sitting in the living fixed on the scanner as we realized that our building had just been identified. My attoenry and I were, in fact, sitting with two minors - drinking.

"Oh crap, we are so screwed..." some one yelled.

My first thought was to grab the scanner and run outside scanning hte streets and the skies. I could see it, helicopters droping comando units onto the roof, swat vans storming the parking lot with cops in riot gear preparing to storm our humble home. Snipers taking aim at our heads rom the roof of the building across the way.

We all had now gathered outside on the front deck looking up and down the building hoping there was a wild party of some sort going on that might have actually gotten the cops attention, but everything was dark and no one was out on the deck at all.

Listening intensly to the scanner outside, we waited. Armed with my attorney we were going to head off the pig bastard and launch a preemptive strike. They thought they could get hte jump on us, but I had the upperhand.

Our own short attention span took us back inside where we continued to laugh and go nuts about the night's turn of events.

"Maybe the cops don't always respond when stuff like that gets called in," one of hte roommates said.

"301 to Columbia, I am outside 1614 Anthony and noone is answering the door, anyway we could contact a landlord or get the exact apartment number?"

"Oh shit, they are right outside."

The cop shines a flashlight into the front windows of our apartment. At this point we had already turned off all the lights and had prepared for an all out assault.

"Take no prisoners! We will not go quietly!"

The cop did not come to our door. My attorney was prepared to play a much more diplomatic role and slowly went out to the front, with my close behind. He was going to take the first bullet - not me, fuck no.

The police officer shines us with the masssive mag light he and begins his verbal assaul.

"What are you guys doing?" he asks.

"Just hanging out. Not really doing anything."

You can hear the scanner in the background as it is stereoed from the cops own radio.

"You know who lives up in that apartment," he says pointing to the corner on the opposite side of the building.

"Um, well, some dudes,"


"We don't know their names..." my attorney then trailed off.

"Ok, well get inside and be quiet," the cop says with no inclination of remose for his crap attitude to fine tax payers like ourselves.

The cop was some young punk who did not sign on to the Columbia Police department to bust up sunday night parties. He was pissed, but was not going to do anything. And didn't as we later heard on the scanner

"301 to Columbia, possible liquor law violations, but no report."

We dodged a bullet. Maybe this thing will provide us with some valuable insight when we once again throw some of the ragers we have been known for in the past. Now with this scanner, we can monitor when the hammer is about to come down and abandon out persuits in the Temple and let the young, idiots who remin behind get squished by the man.

This was a great Christmas Gift and it will have some great uses.

Agent 2101, 10-14 and out.


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