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Reminisce on Getting Busted in High School


MaybeACoordinator

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I had a really bad week during my sophomore year. Snuck my dad’s company car out, that no one but him could drive ,and hit a bridge when my parents were out of town. I was so scared of his wrath that I actually ran away for 1 day to escape it. 3 days later, I got suspended for smoking in the boy’s room. The following weekend,  I snuck out of the house while grounded for the previous two offenses and promptly got picked up by the cops when hitchhiking to a party. When it rain, it pours. 

Edited by TonyTexas
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I was the star starting QB senior year. After winning the state title game I had a massive orgy in the hotel room with only the hot cheerleaders. 2 hot female cops and hot female hotel manager knocked on door for noise complaint. They were upset they weren’t invited to begin with and joined the fray.

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I had a really bad week during my sophomore year. Snuck my dad’s company car out, that no one but him could drive ,and hit a bridge when my parents were out of town. I was so scared of his wrath that I actually ran away for 1 day to escape it. 3 days later, I got suspended for smoking in the boy’s room. The following weekend,  I snuck out of the house while grounded for the previous two offenses and promptly got picked up by the cops when hitchhiking to a party. When it rain, it pours. 

You are not very good at being bad.
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never busted by the cops, too careful/paranoid, altho my girlfriends and i did plenty of stupid shit, ironically most of which involved...sneaking out the window and getting picked up by boys in cars 😄

and while i was not on this particular trip with MAC...i did sneak out for a rendezvous with a SJ junior in 1985...and holy shit what a small world, i bet you knew him! 😮😆

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Where to start…

Me and buddy had fake ids and early release our Spring semester junior year so we got out of school at 1:21. We had nothing to do so we decided to go to Wolfies and drink beer and eat hot wings. We spend all afternoon there and then head to the woods behind his neighborhood to meet other friends.

We are drinking hanging out in this clearing then I decide to take my Honda Accord instead of his truck and decide to off road it. I am ripping through these trails that we have done 100s of times in trucks and four wheelers but never in a 90s Honda Accord. All was going well until the motor blew up.

I decide to get a tow truck so my dad doesn’t find out. Somehow cops show up Im drunk with a blown engine. I get a MIP and then the cop calls my dad because he owns it. So I’m fucked there as well. Dad shows up none to pleased, they tow my car and he drives me home. The next morning was not so great.

 

Not as bad but funny. Me and a buddy are walking into a party with a shitload of Bud Light and Keystone as we are walking down the street a Harris County Sheriff sees us and spotlights us, buddy jumps behind a bush with the spotlights on him and I hide in neighbors lawn. Cop comes on PA and says come out now and he would be fair with us so we comply. He allows my sister who was a sophomore at UT home for winter break to pick me up. No consequences.

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Went to an away game at one of the Garland schools and had a cooler full of beer.  Cop accosted us in the parking lot of what I recall to be Homer Johnson stadium and made us pour out the beer.  No arrest or anything.

Some other dick friends witnessed this and laughed at us from afar.  And also left their car unlocked with their cooler of beer, which we promptly appropriated and drank.

Another time, Mom and Dad had gone out for what should have been several hours.  I had some friends over and we were sitting around drinking beer in advance of a party somewhere.  "Pre-gaming" you whippersnappers call it today. Mom and Dad came home several hours early.  Everyone split out the back door and then me and one guy my parents knew and trusted came back in the house with some plausible story as to what we were doing, but we had left a six-pack of Pearl out.  Dad raised it up and said, "yall want your beer"?  I can't recall if we took it or not, but I was actually permitted to go to the party later and no ramifications for any of my friends.

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Small town cops were...um...permissive.  Basically if you stayed in town at the square, they wouldn't do shit.  If they thought you were drinking and driving, you were fucked.

Never got busted/ ran from the cops.  Did get busted at apartment we lived in with my girlfriend hiding in my closet when my mom got home from work.  We were hoping for a touch and go, "Let's go to the store" and my girlfriend could let herself out"  Pretty sure the 2 bedroom apt reeked of sex, so she made up some excuse to go look in my closet.  That was awkward.  Kept my mom from killing her and still had hormone fueled sex many, many more times.

She was the craziest, most sex crazed woman I would ever date.  Damn, life was all downhill from there.  Well, not really, but holy cow, when it comes to reminiscing...

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43 minutes ago, Helobious said:

I was the star starting QB senior year. After winning the state title game I had a massive orgy in the hotel room with only the hot cheerleaders. 2 hot female cops and hot female hotel manager knocked on door for noise complaint. They were upset they weren’t invited to begin with and joined the fray.

 

 

A959933C-DFCC-4DEF-97F5-C3FA31E2E754.jpeg

Edited by TonyTexas
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37 minutes ago, mchookem said:

never busted by the cops, too careful/paranoid, altho my girlfriends and i did plenty of stupid shit, ironically most of which involved...sneaking out the window and getting picked up by boys in cars 😄

and while i was not on this particular trip with MAC...i did sneak out for a rendezvous with a SJ junior in 1985...and holy shit what a small world, i bet you knew him! 😮😆

Almost certainly so! What year and where did you graduate from?

 

10 minutes ago, TwiceHorn said:

Went to an away game at one of the Garland schools and had a cooler full of beer.  Cop accosted us in the parking lot of what I recall to be Homer Johnson stadium and made us pour out the beer.  No arrest or anything.

Some other dick friends witnessed this and laughed at us from afar.  And also left their car unlocked with their cooler of beer, which we promptly appropriated and drank.

 

At the same HS party spot -- Shotgun, a road through a field near the as-yet-unfinished Beltway 8 -- we were occasionally hunted for sport by the rednecks then endemic at Sharpstown HS. They would descend on us like a fucking Mongol horde, beat the shit out of us, and then split. They were all roided out and we were always outnumbered. (I think one of them was Barrett Robbins, the future Oakland Raider who infamously flaked on the fucking Super Bowl.)

One time that happened to Tony and Steve and a few of my other friends. I arrived a few minutes after it was all over. They were gone but the Sharpstown Horde was still there, and the encircled me. Discretion was the better part of valor -- I told them I was already a freshman at UT and for some reason that defused the situation and I was able to get out unscathed.

Tony was of Sicilian heritage. And this unfair fight did not sit well with him. And he recognized one of the dudes in the party who kicked his ass. A few days later he and a buddy went to that dude's house and lay in wait. When the kid came home with his GF, Tony then proceeded to beat the shit out of him in front of his girlfriend while his buddy laughed and took pictures. (Which was very very rare in those days.) @Brisketexan knows this guy; he can tell his story if he wants. It's a good 'un.

Another time we were at , our late friend Sam decided to down a flaming shot of 151 which of course set his whole face on fire. I smacked him around, calling him a dumbshit and putting out the fire at the same time. Come Monday at school he had obvious burn wounds on his face and the late Brother Casey, the legendary campus cop (a former soldier in the Tampa mob), asked him what the fuck happened. Sam said the Sharpstown assholes tossed a Molotov cocktail at him. I am pretty sure there was an inter-school investigation which of course went nowhere because at least this time they had nothing to do with it. 

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We had made a little boat. In retrospect, pretty fucking rad - fit four of us and a cooler, it managed to stay afloat for several excursions. And there we are in the middle of Lake Woodlands late at night drinking in this little boat because it seemed like the thing to do, and all of a sudden a big bright light is trained on us and a cop is shouting "row over to me!"

ComfortableVigorousBanteng-max-1mb.gif

we went the opposite direction as fast as we could, and apparently that was either fast enough or he didn't really try.

i had a group of girl friends from Conroe that my music friends knew from shows we played, and one day they showed up at the high school parking lot in the morning and said lets ditch school and go into Houston. Ditching school wasn't something I did frequently but at the moment, it seemed like the thing to do, and I definitely don't regret it - that was a beautiful day. I forged a note from my dad to give to the office the next day, and they asked me for his number so they could call and verify. I gave them my cell phone number and then hauled ass to a practice room in the band hall to change my away message to "Hello this is Mr. Celery Man, I can't come to the phone right now but if you..." and sure nuff, next period I got a voice mail. Called them back, yup little Celery was sure sick, y'all take care. That felt like some Zack Morris shit, that was probably one of the last years they wouldn't just assume you have a cell phone to punk them with.

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20 minutes ago, MaybeACoordinator said:

Almost certainly so! What year and where did you graduate from?

 

At the same HS party spot -- Shotgun, a road through a field near the as-yet-unfinished Beltway 8 -- we were occasionally hunted for sport by the rednecks then endemic at Sharpstown HS. They would descend on us like a fucking Mongol horde, beat the shit out of us, and then split. They were all roided out and we were always outnumbered. (I think one of them was Barrett Robbins, the future Oakland Raider who infamously flaked on the fucking Super Bowl.)

One time that happened to Tony and Steve and a few of my other friends. I arrived a few minutes after it was all over. They were gone but the Sharpstown Horde was still there, and the encircled me. Discretion was the better part of valor -- I told them I was already a freshman at UT and for some reason that defused the situation and I was able to get out unscathed.

Tony was of Sicilian heritage. And this unfair fight did not sit well with him. And he recognized one of the dudes in the party who kicked his ass. A few days later he and a buddy went to that dude's house and lay in wait. When the kid came home with his GF, Tony then proceeded to beat the shit out of him in front of his girlfriend while his buddy laughed and took pictures. (Which was very very rare in those days.) @Brisketexan knows this guy; he can tell his story if he wants. It's a good 'un.

Another time we were at , our late friend Sam decided to down a flaming shot of 151 which of course set his whole face on fire. I smacked him around, calling him a dumbshit and putting out the fire at the same time. Come Monday at school he had obvious burn wounds on his face and the late Brother Casey, the legendary campus cop (a former soldier in the Tampa mob), asked him what the fuck happened. Sam said the Sharpstown assholes tossed a Molotov cocktail at him. I am pretty sure there was an inter-school investigation which of course went nowhere because at least this time they had nothing to do with it. 

We never had any kind of real fighting rivalries with other high schools.  However, in the class ahead of me, several guys "dated" Hockadaisies and Ursuline girls on the QT, very hush hush.  A few Crusaders (and fewer still Marksmen) apparently took humbrage at these prods (further) defiling "their" women and there were some fights over it.  But it was all kept curiously quiet.  I remember in particular an outfielder on our baseball team, who was a tall, rangy, deceptively fast and strong guy was fond of the Ursuline girls and established quite a reputation as an ass-kicker of private school guys.

A guy in my class actually got curbed (yes curbstomped, shattered jaw, teeth etc.) under mysterious circumstances that may have had to do with a private-school chick.

That whole dynamic apparently resurfaced 5-10 years ago with some pretty large brawls taking place in public parks.

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My Junior year of high school I had 3 buddies over and we were hanging out at my parents place. We were really just planning to play some video games and shoot some pool. Then a fourth buddy calls and let’s us know he just scored some weed so plans quickly changed. 

My parents were home so smoking at the house was out. No problem, I just told them we were going out to rent a movie, and we left and met friend with the drugs behind Steinmart. We get about as high as we could get on whatever schwag we had to smoke and head back to the house ready to laugh our asses off playing Smash Brothers. 

Problem was, my mom got suspicious at a certain point and she was waiting for us to return by the door. My friends quickly scatter to the back bedroom while I faced down my mom and tried to pull myself together to try and convince her I’m not high. And that, dear reader, is where I’ll have to pick up the story with what I was told happened, because the next thing I remember I woke up in the hospital with 8 staples in my head. 

Apparently summoning all my attention to face down my pissed mom was just too much for me in that state, because I passed out straight backward and the back of my head bounced off the brick entryway. I’m completely unconscious and bleeding and my mom is losing her shit. My friends and dad come running and see the scene and they don’t know if she hit me and I went down or if I’m dead or what the fuck happened. Paramedics and cops are called, I go off to the hospital in an ambulance, and my friends are left with the cops to sort this shit out. 

They think I must have been on some really serious shit to go down like that and aren’t really buying that we were just smoking some dirt weed. My friend who brought the drugs own up to it and they search his truck where they find: the weed, a six pack, a pack of cigs, and porn. They write him a ticket for each one (he was 17) before making a big show out of tearing them all up and giving him a warning. 

I went home from the hospital the next day with a hell of a headache and in trouble with my parents but both things passed quickly enough. 

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23 minutes ago, Celery Man said:

We had made a little boat. In retrospect, pretty fucking rad - fit four of us and a cooler, it managed to stay afloat for several excursions. And there we are in the middle of Lake Woodlands late at night drinking in this little boat because it seemed like the thing to do, and all of a sudden a big bright light is trained on us and a cop is shouting "row over to me!"

ComfortableVigorousBanteng-max-1mb.gif

we went the opposite direction as fast as we could, and apparently that was either fast enough or he didn't really try.

 

Saltwater version: Spring Break way out west beach in Galveston. The beach was packed. For some weird reason, probably just laziness, I decided to go piss between the dunes and some rando's car (instead of in the fucking ocean) when this fat Galveston cop -- the notorious Beach Patrol -- rolls up in a golf cart. He totally fabricated a case against me on the spot -- "I saw you urinating on this vehicle," he said, in spite of the fact that there was not a drop of piss on that car. So he asked for my license and whipped out his ticket pad when some idiot came tearing down the beach, spinning out in every direction.

The cop sees that and puts away his ticket pad. "Wait right here, son," he says, and goes off to pursue the car.

Um, yeah, officer, I'll get right on that. I tore off into the water and swam out to about the third sandbar and waited for the coast to clear, literally..

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We need a thread for all the crazy shit you did in junior high/high school and DIDN’T get caught, because the only time a cop showed up at my house is when I was falsely accused of something and the pig kept telling me to admit to it.

We did a TON of shit. Shooting people with BB guns, stealing, taking cars out at 14, 3 man slingshot at people’s houses in the dead of night, etc, etc

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1 hour ago, MaybeACoordinator said:

Almost certainly so! What year and where did you graduate from?

lol oh i was just a lowly poor, public school girl (Aldine district)...but in '85 i was finishing my freshman year and a friend was dating a SJ upper classman. i accompanied her to a SJ-centric house party, some place in River Oaks, with a pool, lots of rich boys on the prowl, drugs everywhere...this was a few years before 'Less Than Zero' but it was basically that vibe and i was admittedly in awe 😆

anyways i hit it off with one of the boys and ended up as a prom date a few weeks later. short-lived romance but yeah, a few sneaky late night rendezvous for sure. 

i also ended up as a date to the St. Thomas prom two years later. Catholic boys liked me 😄😋

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I got nothing.

But then there's Corey Nation, who was caught choking the chicken while singing the G. I. Joe theme song in the boys' restroom in 7th grade.

Never, ever lived that down. I mean even to this day. What do I remember about him? G I JOOOOOOOOOEEEEE fapfapfap

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I got detained by the feds in SW Louisiana for allegedly hunting a baited field. Opening day of south region dove season. It was back when ex-NFL linebacker Terry Schaunessy owned Hackberry Rod and Gun club, and he seeded the areas with goat weed 91 days before Sept 1 to avoid violating migratory bird laws.

We were told in advance, even. “The feds got it out for me. Make sure you don’t shoot more than your limit; make sure your coolers have Gatorade only. Make sure your license looks right and keep it handy.”

We shot over 400 of our 500 bird limit, and then a dozen federal game wardens appear. They rose from the field in ghillie suits, swooping from their ambush positions on four-wheelers. Then a helicopter landed, and even more agents stepped off the skids: all tactical, AR-15s, the whole show.

Terry was pissed, and he wanted to kill the agent in command, and his client, VP of Trinity Industries (who had financed this weekend junket) wanted to kill him. They lined us up, took our birds, and sat there smirking with satisfaction until they began reading IDs. . . TX State senators, representatives, state judges, and a federal judge. Oh, and a bunch of us who happened to be loyal transit mix/Trinity industries customers. Mixing business with politics.

They seemed confused, like they expected us to be contrite and guilty, not defiant and righteous.

I was the youngest, so they picked me out and tried to get me to admit that I was told to admit I was hunting a baited field and that everyone else was guilty of the same. My reply was “hell man, we was waiting on you fuckers to show up.”

It was getting close to dark thirty, but those guys had been hiding motionlessly in that Sept 1st heat since 5 am, daydreaming about a huge bust.

34 years later, the State representative’s son named his firstborn after my daddy. Dad had recently passed on, so it was very touching. I can’t wait til that kid gets older so I can tell him some stories about his own grandfather.

I miss the way politics used to be. Back when the Texas dems had the power.

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19 minutes ago, BearSchlong said:

I got detained by the feds in SW Louisiana for allegedly hunting a baited field. Opening day of south region dove season. It was back when ex-NFL linebacker Terry Schaunessy owned Hackberry Rod and Gun club, and he seeded the areas with goat weed 91 days before Sept 1 to avoid violating migratory bird laws.

We were told in advance, even. “The feds got it out for me. Make sure you don’t shoot more than your limit; make sure your coolers have Gatorade only. Make sure your license looks right and keep it handy.”

We shot over 400 of our 500 bird limit, and then a dozen federal game wardens appear. They rose from the field in ghillie suits, swooping from their ambush positions on four-wheelers. Then a helicopter landed, and even more agents stepped off the skids: all tactical, AR-15s, the whole show.

Terry was pissed, and he wanted to kill the agent in command, and his client, VP of Trinity Industries (who had financed this whole weekend trip), wanted to kill him. They lined us up, took our birds, and sat there smirking with satisfaction until they began reading IDs. . . TX State senators, representatives, state judges, and a federal judge. Oh, and a bunch of us who happened to be loyal transit mix/Trinity industries customers. Mixing business with politics.

They seemed confused, like they expected us to be contrite and guilty, not defiant and righteous.

I was the youngest, so they picked me out and tried to get me to admit that I was told to admit I was hunting a baited field and that everyone else was guilty of the same. My reply was “hell man, we was waiting on you fuckers to show up.”

It was getting close to dark thirty, but those guys had been hiding motionlessly in that Sept 1st heat since 5 am, daydreaming about a huge bust.

34 years later, the State representative’s son named his firstborn after my daddy very touching. I can’t wait til that kid gets older so I can tell him some stories about his own grandfather.

I miss the way politics used to be.

Steve Brule GIF by MOODMAN

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A mild bust, the story told just to say fuck the motherfucking TABC forever....

Also in Galveston, I think during Dickens on the Strand. There were about four of us in this dude's Bronco and we pulled up to a Circle K on the Seawall and bought potato chips and other junk food, and these two plainclothes assholes then demanded to search the Bronco. They claimed the junk food gave them probable cause, I guess as some kind of beer accessory or something. We did have the remnants of a six-pack aboard, so the driver was ticketed for MIP. 

End of story, but I will say it again: Fuck the TABC forever. They should have been sundowned years ago.

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8 hours ago, MaybeACoordinator said:

End of story, but I will say it again: Fuck the TABC forever. They should have been sundowned years ago.

Correct.  Surfside, Bryan, and the Armadillo were my haunts.  We had the same two TABC fucks the entirety of my high school drinking career. One tall muscular in shape guy, and his 300+ pound fat fuckboi partner.  They used to binocular you from way down the beach, then descend in on you like you were a capital murder suspect.  Somehow I never got in any real trouble.  First MIP was in college station, which pretty much reaffirmed what I already knew.  Please God let my kids be smarter than I was. 

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9 hours ago, MaybeACoordinator said:

A mild bust, the story told just to say fuck the motherfucking TABC forever....

Also in Galveston, I think during Dickens on the Strand. There were about four of us in this dude's Bronco and we pulled up to a Circle K on the Seawall and bought potato chips and other junk food, and these two plainclothes assholes then demanded to search the Bronco. They claimed the junk food gave them probable cause, I guess as some kind of beer accessory or something. We did have the remnants of a six-pack aboard, so the driver was ticketed for MIP. 

End of story, but I will say it again: Fuck the TABC forever. They should have been sundowned years ago.

I also got my first MIP in a bronco from TABC. Dicks. 

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47 minutes ago, fattyflattie said:

Correct.  Surfside, Bryan, and the Armadillo were my haunts.  We had the same two TABC fucks the entirety of my high school drinking career. One tall muscular in shape guy, and his 300+ pound fat fuckboi partner.  They used to binocular you from way down the beach, then descend in on you like you were a capital murder suspect.  Somehow I never got in any real trouble.  First MIP was in college station, which pretty much reaffirmed what I already knew.  Please God let my kids be smarter than I was. 

Kind of a dick move on my part (or was it?) but I refused to chip in to the price of the ticket because:

1. I had no money.

2. None of those other dudes could conceivably have kicked my ass

3. And most importantly, and as I said at the time, it was the principle of the thing: driver dude needed to suck it up, tell his parents we had beer in Galveston (shocker!), and have them fight the ticket, so that TABC would think twice before pulling that kind of bullshit again

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I did a lot of crazy shit in high school, but there was never a big bust.  Never by the cops.  My parents found out about a lot of the shit, but none of it was really criminal or too bad for them to care about too much.  We lit the carpet in my uncle's hunting cabin on fire one night; that was probably the worst thing.  Even he didn't really give a fuck about that.

There is one story that makes me look kinda cool, though, so I'll tell it.

We got out of school early one day for some reason and my grandparents' house was just down the street.  They weren't home.  I don't remember any of the details at all of how this happened, but I ended up at their house with two cute girls from my class, one of whom I had dated junior year.  The three of us ended up in the back bedroom laying on the bed.  We were fully clothed, mind you, and I had one girl on each side. They were laying their heads on my chest.  We were just snuggling or whatever.  I don't know if it was leading up to something.  I honestly wasn't going for anything like that (though I don't know why).  Right about then my mom walks into the room.  She had come to my grandparents' house and come inside without me hearing. My mom just turned and walked away when she saw us.  I jumped up and ran after her.  I told her we weren't doing anything.  All she said to me was, "This is NOT the way I like finding my son."  I wonder what my dad thought when my mom told him the story.

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I never got busted in HS. I wasn't the type, (going by looks) but everyone in my class and the class above was. I went to a tiny West Texas school where everybody knew everybody. There were the stoners, the geeks the rednecks, the jocks and everybody else. It was just in a very small pond. My Senior class had 18 people and we were the largest class in school history. The biggest dick of the group is responsible keeping a remote West Texas town supplied with potable water.

He engineered and dug a huge pipeline last year to get it done.

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5 minutes ago, RPM said:

There were the stoners, the geeks the rednecks, the jocks and everybody else.

ferris buellers day off total film GIF

I never got busted because I didn't do heinous shit until college, then made up for lost time.

Several times I should have died, been in jail or at one point murdered in the ghetto streets of New Orleans on New Year's Eve, but somehow survived it all.

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On 1/18/2023 at 6:15 AM, MaybeACoordinator said:

Tony's mom forced us to call our own parental units in front of her and confess all. Joe and John had the bright idea of dialing some random number and faking the whole thing 

Haha, this is how it went in the post script to my story too. My dad informed my friends they had to tell their parents and then have them give him a call.  Out of the 4 friends that got busted, 2 actually did because my parents actually knew theirs. The other two had their older sister and an uncle or something call. 

Both those guys were in my wedding a decade later and came clean about it, laughing that they had gotten one over on him. He said of course he knew but he was tired of dealing with our dumb asses and figured he had done his parental due diligence at that point. 

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1 hour ago, Ojo Rojo said:

I did a lot of crazy shit in high school, but there was never a big bust.  Never by the cops.  My parents found out about a lot of the shit, but none of it was really criminal or too bad for them to care about too much.  We lit the carpet in my uncle's hunting cabin on fire one night; that was probably the worst thing.  Even he didn't really give a fuck about that.

There is one story that makes me look kinda cool, though, so I'll tell it.

We got out of school early one day for some reason and my grandparents' house was just down the street.  They weren't home.  I don't remember any of the details at all of how this happened, but I ended up at their house with two cute girls from my class, one of whom I had dated junior year.  The three of us ended up in the back bedroom laying on the bed.  We were fully clothed, mind you, and I had one girl on each side. They were laying their heads on my chest.  We were just snuggling or whatever.  I don't know if it was leading up to something.  I honestly wasn't going for anything like that (though I don't know why).  Right about then my mom walks into the room.  She had come to my grandparents' house and come inside without me hearing. My mom just turned and walked away when she saw us.  I jumped up and ran after her.  I told her we weren't doing anything.  All she said to me was, "This is NOT the way I like finding my son."  I wonder what my dad thought when my mom told him the story.

He was pissed that you didn't give him the pleasure of saying "let's not tell your mom about this''

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My junior year (1978) in HS the school district brought in drug-sniffing dogs to patrol the parking lot.  Well, the dogs alerted on my car.  This was probably several months after I quit smoking dope.  I might have smoked dope in the car a handful of times so I feared the worse.  They found a single beer bottle cap.  The asshole dog handlers insisted there was drugs in the car but they just couldn't find it.  Those fuckers took me out of class in front of my friends and essentially announced that the dogs had found drugs in my car.  I'm still pissed about this.  

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I heard a tale from my greataunt about my dad in the early post-war days in West Texas when he turned in the local bootlegger after they refused to serve him very late one night. The bootlegger was my greatuncle and his uncle. That was a long before I was born tangled web to unweave.

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15 hours ago, DalTxHornFan said:

I was in 3rd grade when my Mom discovered my cache of Playboy magazines hidden in my backyard fort.

Next came my confession to her of how my buddy had stolen the mags from his Dad's stash to establish our backyard fort collection.  Of course, she had to immediately get on the phone with that Dad and tell him what a horrible, perverted person he was to have such trash in his home.

I was in 7th grade when my Mom discovered my copy of "Everything you've ever wanted to know about sex, but were afraid to ask" stashed in my bedroom closet.

Next came my confession to her of how a friend of mine had stolen it from his parent's library and shared it with me.  Of course, she had to immediately get on the phone with the parents and tell them what horrible, perverted people they were to have such trash in their home.

I didn't bring any of the girls that I dated in high school or college home to meet my Mom until I was pretty much already engaged.  No sense in risking her making another phone call to the girl's parents!

 

I'm pretty sure both my parents knew about the copy of Mellow Mail I had stashed in my bookshelf.

The maid is the fundamentalist who threw it away.

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4 hours ago, Ojo Rojo said:

I did a lot of crazy shit in high school, but there was never a big bust.  Never by the cops.  My parents found out about a lot of the shit, but none of it was really criminal or too bad for them to care about too much.  We lit the carpet in my uncle's hunting cabin on fire one night; that was probably the worst thing.  Even he didn't really give a fuck about that.

There is one story that makes me look kinda cool, though, so I'll tell it.

We got out of school early one day for some reason and my grandparents' house was just down the street.  They weren't home.  I don't remember any of the details at all of how this happened, but I ended up at their house with two cute girls from my class, one of whom I had dated junior year.  The three of us ended up in the back bedroom laying on the bed.  We were fully clothed, mind you, and I had one girl on each side. They were laying their heads on my chest.  We were just snuggling or whatever.  I don't know if it was leading up to something.  I honestly wasn't going for anything like that (though I don't know why).  Right about then my mom walks into the room.  She had come to my grandparents' house and come inside without me hearing. My mom just turned and walked away when she saw us.  I jumped up and ran after her.  I told her we weren't doing anything.  All she said to me was, "This is NOT the way I like finding my son."  I wonder what my dad thought when my mom told him the story.

Heh. If my Mom had ever caught me like that, she'd be singing hallelujahs that I'd finally figured myself out. She'd be concerned about protection, naturally, but hell, she'd probably invite the girls to dinner with us.

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In high school, four of us driving from Austin to S. Padre for spring break, early 80s all underage, although at least one of us (me) had a fake ID. I'm driving way too fast, beer in the car, weed also, a DPS trooper passes us going the other way. He whips around, lights us up. I pull over, and get of the car and start to walk back to him, hoping he won't see the beer in the car.

Trooper literally shoulder checks me out of the way, points to the guy in the back seat behind the driver seat, and says "Get out you little shithead!"

Apparently, that guy had flipped the trooper off as he went by.

The little shithead gets out, and the trooper, a big guy who probably had 6 inches and at least a hundred pounds on the guy, just completely goes off, spittle flying, finger jabbing his chest: "You little fucking prick, who the fuck do you think you are flipping me the bird? You were speeding, I wasn't even going to pull you over, if I toss the car I'm probably going to find beer, all because you are a little shithead with big finger. Turn the fuck around and spread em." Something like that.

He searches the guy, gets his ID, has us all kneel on the side of road while he tosses the car, finds the beer (but not the weed), has the shithead pour it out on the side of the road, gives us all MIPs, and lets us go.

I also get a speeding ticket.

I really really wanted to kick that stupid fuckers ass (the dude who shot the bird, not the trooper) but I never did.

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2 hours ago, HouTex said:

My junior year (1978) in HS the school district brought in drug-sniffing dogs to patrol the parking lot.  Well, the dogs alerted on my car.  This was probably several months after I quit smoking dope.  I might have smoked dope in the car a handful of times so I feared the worse.  They found a single beer bottle cap.  The asshole dog handlers insisted there was drugs in the car but they just couldn't find it.  Those fuckers took me out of class in front of my friends and essentially announced that the dogs had found drugs in my car.  I'm still pissed about this.  

 

Same thing happened to me, but they also called my parents. My dad showed up, and they showed him a little baggie of grass (literally little pieces of actual grass that they picked up from the floorboard), not a bag of weed. My dad sneeringly said, "What did you vacuum the floorboards?"

Nothing ever came of it, because it wasn't mj, it was just crap from the bottom of people's shoes.

 

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senior year of HS, went to billy bob's in ft worth to see jerry jeff walker. drinking beers in the parking lot before the show when a security guard pulls up in a golf cart and tells us to get the hell out of there. it was time for the concert anyway so we toss our beers in the truck and head towards the entrance...that's when ft worth PD pulls up behind us. there was only one dude who was still holding a beer...he happened to be the only one of us who wasn't 18 at the time. the concert was 18+ so he had borrowed an ID from a guy in our class who looked reasonably like him, and that's the ID he gave to the cops and the one they booked the MIP on. everyone else was given a warning. they show up on the court date to explain what happened, the cop didn't show up and the case was dropped. 

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41 minutes ago, High Plains Drifter said:

 

I pull over, and get of the car and start to walk back to him, hoping he won't see the beer in the car.

 

As a 90s baby & a non-white I still can’t believe people did this. Seems like you’d get turned into Swiss cheese immediately as soon as you step towards the cop car nowadays, probably even regardless of what you look like. Was it a normal thing back then? 

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12 minutes ago, Helobious said:

As a 90s baby & a non-white I still can’t believe people did this. Seems like you’d get turned into Swiss cheese immediately as soon as you step towards the cop car nowadays, probably even regardless of what you look like. Was it a normal thing back then? 

Yes.  My father told me to get out of the car and then do exactly what the cop says.  His logic was that the cop can see that you don’t have a weapon in your hand.  But if you stay in your car he doesn’t know if you have a weapon.  I’m white if it matters to anyone.   

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I didn't start drinking or smoking until I was a junior in HS but when I did I made up for lost opportunities. Senior year I was unofficially voted Most Likely to be an Alcoholic. We drank/smoked at every dance, sporting events and even during school. Every Friday we would skip and go drink beer in the park down the street. We volunteered to work in a Headstart program and we would cut out early to go shoot pool and drink. We told our teachers we had been drinking at school and during events and not one of them ever turned us in.

This is how wild the 70's were: At the last dance of my senior year a friend of mine and I sat in the school parking lot drinking Wild Turkey and beer. It was pouring rain and we didn't hear/see the Fort Worth cop/hired security come up to the car. He knocked on the window and we rolled it down enough to talk to him. He told us we couldn't sit in the car in the parking lot to go inside. He had to see us drinking. We went inside but kept sneaking out to drink more. On our last trip out I saw that my buddy had one of those Radio Shack hardhats with a spinning red light on top. So I put it one and we found the two cops standing in another lot. I turned the light on and we ran circles around them making siren noises. When we stopped we said " What are you boys doing in the parking lot? We think you been drinkin' and we're going to need to see some id's." It's at this point you would expect we should be handcuffed. Instead one of the cops said "Uh, I must have left me id at home, you're not going to arrest us are you?" We all started laughing  and we went back inside. I still don't know how I made it through life without going to jail. And the buddy is a UT alum and though I haven't seen him in 30 years, I wouldn't be surprised that he reads this on Surly.

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28 minutes ago, Helobious said:

As a 90s baby & a non-white I still can’t believe people did this. Seems like you’d get turned into Swiss cheese immediately as soon as you step towards the cop car nowadays, probably even regardless of what you look like. Was it a normal thing back then? 

 

11 minutes ago, HouTex said:

Yes.  My father told me to get out of the car and then do exactly what the cop says.  His logic was that the cop can see that you don’t have a weapon in your hand.  But if you stay in your car he doesn’t know if you have a weapon.  I’m white if it matters to anyone.   

 

Yeah, it was common practice at one time. I wouldn't do that today.

 

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7 minutes ago, High Plains Drifter said:

 

 

Yeah, it was common practice at one time. I wouldn't do that today.

 

Are cops more worried about getting beat up and their weapon stolen than getting shot as they bend down to grab the driver’s papers and DL?  

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6 hours ago, RPM said:

I heard a tale from my greataunt about my dad in the early post-war days in West Texas when he turned in the local bootlegger after they refused to serve him very late one night. The bootlegger was my greatuncle and his uncle. That was a long before I was born tangled web to unweave.

Bootlegger was a whole 'nother high school experience.

Fuck dry counties. Bootlegger didn't check ID though.  That was a weekly transaction.  

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When I first moved to Denton my junior year I got invited to a bonfire, had no idea what that country shit was but they had some hoes. Went got high and drunk, some idiots got the bonfire out of control by throwing shit in it. My buddies and I left, it was cool because I had 2 buddies on juvenile probation so they had to be sober and always gave us rides back home, I walked in high as hell and definitely drunk but with JITB, gave my stepdad 2 monster tacos and he never told my mom, but the next 2 days were hell mowing, edging and doing all the damn outside chores with a hangover sucked.

This made me hit up a few homeboys in the group chat and we talked about it for a minute and they remembered the dude that threw the shit that made the fire go out of control he went to aggy and was in the corp but never joined the military like a couple of us did. Ik drunk rambling but might be relevant

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1 hour ago, Zepol87 said:

but the next 2 days were hell mowing, edging and doing all the damn outside chores with a hangover sucked.

This happened to me once. Coming home from a party and it was very evident I wasn’t going to be able to make it home. Stopped off at my grandmothers house, as she was always up late reading and whatnot. Called my folks and told them I was real tired and was just going to crash there.  Dad was standing over me about 0630, unimpressed.  Lawn, gutters, pressure washing the driveway, the whole 9 yards.   

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7 hours ago, Rimbo said:

Heh. If my Mom had ever caught me like that, she'd be singing hallelujahs that I'd finally figured myself out. She'd be concerned about protection, naturally, but hell, she'd probably invite the girls to dinner with us.

Wayyyyy before HS, like kindergarten, these two sisters and me were in my mom's bedroom jumping on the bed. One of the girls had the idea to unbutton our pants while we jumped, and in the course of time, gravity did its work. And then we took off our underwear too, and then my mom and their mom came in and there we were, jumping on the bed with nothing covering our "wedding tackle" (as the Brits say). 

My mom was a hippie / hellion and thought it was hilarious. 

I later had a real threesome with two strippers I knew and wound up with crabs. Mama found that hilarious too. 

 

 

Screen Shot 2023-01-19 at 11.12.52 PM.png

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So this is the part where I have to confess that my old man once was pretty wealthy and had a, what my archeologist, older, half-niece would call Major Domo, who once worked for him in the evenings and helped run the house when he was out of town a lot and his then wife, wasn't into raising my older half siblings.  There's a great story about one of my older half-brothers trying to steal a steak off another's plate and getting stabbed in the hand, but that's another story.  For purposes of this story, the gentleman's name was James, and he was a total badass.

 

So eventually I come along.  Dad was older and passes away when I'm 16.  Mom kept the house and went to work to pay the taxes, expenses, and, apparently, to keep paying James..  So it's just me and mom and James (who still comes two evenings a week to take care of some things).  One night, whilst in college, I'm home for the holidays.  A buddy and I decide we're going to hang out with the Chief.  So we are in my car, and we drive a little ways down the street from my house to have a session.  So everything's going well and we see some headlights coming.  As the car passes us, I see it's the "Village" Police.  As they round the cul de sac, I hit the gas.  I'm 26 yards from my driveway.  I like my odds.  So I wheel in the driveway and into the garage.  My buddy and I jump out and run around the back of the house.  We instinctively run to a back, sliding-glass door.  Suddenly, the door opens up, and there's James.  He waves an arm at us and says, "C'mon boys, get in here."  We don't hesitate.  We make it to my room and look out the window to see the cop car slowing going through our driveway.  I exit my room nervously  to see James at the front window looking at the cop as well.  He nods to me, and we never spoke of it again. 

 

Suffice it to say, James was family as far as any of us kids, whatever generation, were concerned.

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