Foxy People

Monday, March 28, 2011

They see me rollin'.

In high school, rolling someone's house with toilet paper is the height of borderline-illegal entertainment. No one admits that they think it's cool - cause that'd make it lame. But we all did.

The tricky thing is that it can be construed as a compliment or a startlingly pathetic insult - so you want to plan wisely who you're going to assault.

For example, I decided to roll my buddy Ford once. I took a few friends and we did a pretty excellent job.


The next day, as most Rollees are, he was upset. But then we noticed he was more upset than we thought he had a right to be. So we tactfully asked what was wrong. Apparently the same night, someone broke the door on his garage. Of course, they thought the rollers (big, dumb us) and the vandals were one and the same.

It eventually got worked out that we were innocent, but to this day that hasn't been solved. Hopefully this post will help locate the culprit. If any of you have seen a prowler who only targets garage doors of houses that have recently been rolled - please call this number;

9

Thank you.

One night, a few weeks after I got my license, we rolled someone else. I can't remember who it was - but that doesn't matter much.

Ford, Jarrett, Warren and I donned our black clothes, jumped in my black car, and set out for no good.

When we got there, we parked my car at a safe distance and sat there for a few minutes to prep for what lie ahead: Absolutely no danger, and with almost no consequences, period.

As we were about to make a break for the yard, Jarrett decides it's too hot and starts to take off his hoodie. Now, Jarrett was our token black friend. That is only important right now because Jarrett took off his appropriately black hoodie to reveal a blindingly white tank top - which I'm pretty sure had characters from Winnie the Pooh on it, but I don't want to say for sure.

So this was Jarrett.


Three guys eventually got him to take off his shirt. That was a proud moment.

When we had finished, we ran back to my car as if anyone knew or cared we were there, and sped off into the night.

As we approach our hometown, Jarrett says something unpleasant.

Jarrett: Hey, I think that's a cop behind us.

Ford: No, it's not a Crown Victoria.

Then, as my heart was beating up my eardrums, they politely argued about whether or not a police officer could drive a car other than a typical Crown Vic in our small town. After a few seconds it gets quiet, then suddenly;

Ford: Nope. That's a cop.

Blue lights penetrate my vision as I realize with dismay that I was seconds from turning into my driveway.



FACT: Cops are attracted to turn signals like a moth to the flame. Do not use them.

As I pull to a stop, my selfish feelings are put aside when Ford slowly says;

Ford: Wow. Look at all this toilet paper.

Before the cop can leave his car, we play a quick game of hot potato with a hastily TP stuffed duffel bag. It winds up in Warren's lap, who looks positively terrified about this. A knock on my window snaps all of our faces up to meet our maker.

That man saw four boys, one shirtless, all in black - and the one in the toboggan has a big black duffel bag.

I can't even draw that.

The rest was a routine traffic stop. He saw me go over the yellow line a couple times and he let me go with a warning.

The moral of the story doesn't really exist. Except, hey parents, at least we weren't setting anything on fire.

2 comments:

  1. hahaha. this got me laughing out loud. :) "Wow. Look at all this toilet paper." "I can't even draw that." hahaha. nice trey. the pics are cool too!

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