Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Unreal Expectations
Posted by Sam at 12:26 AM | tags: ,

As a teenager, I always assumed that I'd spend at least one night in jail before I hit 30. I don't really know why I thought this. It's like the assumption that I'll have kids one day. It's ambiguous enough that any combination of variables could lead, perhaps accidentally, to that end. Hopefully, not accidentally in the latter scenario, but I think my point is clear.

I knew that violence wasn't going to land me in jail (pacifism is an understatement when describing my demeanor). I wasn't going to steal anything either. That's just not my modus operandi. Secretly, my hope was that I'd be doing something revolutionary... like standing up to the man, or breaking down the walls of social injustice, or proudly wearing a Dead Kennedys' "Nazi Punks Fuck Off" t-shirt (fond memories of high school... I miss you, Walsh). More realistically, it's likely to be something totally stupid and harmless that gets me thrown in the slammer. Oh, I don't know... breaking into some abandoned mental institution, or possibly trespassing through the inner bowels of a prodigious ivy league campus come to mind. Let's hope it's not a charge of "drunk and disorderly" though. That would be... um, embarrassing? Or would it be cool? No no... embarrassing. Although...

Now, at this point, I'm sure you're expecting me to write something like, "Well, I finally did it. I spent the night in jail!" No such luck. I wish that I had a story that exciting to share. I did however, come very close. How close? Ummm... not that close.

I got my name taken down by campus security for stealing cups from the beloved campus Starbucks and busting into the faculty cafeteria thingy to make some coffee.

It was last Sunday. The campus was just starting to wake from the holiday break, yet the cafeteria and the Starbucks and the other mini-cafe were all still slumbering peacefully. And... well... I needed some coffee. Big time. I knew that the faculty cafeteria has this magical, single-serving, coffee dispenser machine of magnificence. I sort of jimmied open the door, and there it was: my dark-roasted destiny. As I approached, I found that there was a severe lack of cupage. No cups were to be found anywhere. And that's when I was hit with the brilliant scheme of hopping the Starbucks counter and yoinking a cup or two.

I recognized a slight hesitation before I vaulted the counter (more like walked casually around the counter... but where's the drama in that?). It was my conscience... and it was soon silenced by the pangs of caffeine withdrawal. I got my cups without incident and moseyed on to the faculty cafe. Humming pleasantly to myself as the coffee machine did its thing, I hardly heard the door open behind me. There was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to hide. In no time flat, I found myself face to face with the most gosh-darn nicest security guard that I've ever encountered. In fact, he felt so bad about having to take my name down that he let me keep the coffee. He even asked if I needed any sugar.

And there you have it. My run-in with the law. That's the closest I've been (since Jagermeister Night '01 (Berkeley, CA)) to spending the night in jail. I've still got a few more years to meet my night-in-jail-before-I'm-30 deadline though. Wish me luck... I guess.

Comments: 2 | Post a Comment | Permalink


that's pretty fucking hilarious.

you got busted for caffeine withdrawal.

come to england with me for christmas

Comment By Dr. Kennedy on November 30, 2005 11:29 AM


I vow on all that I hold Holy to get you thrown in jail by the time you are 30. I don't know exactly how I will do it but you can be sure that the crime will be bloody and you will probably serve more than thirty years for it...but I promise that you will meet your deadline!

Comment By TheDarkLordDerfla on November 30, 2005 3:56 PM

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Sam Who!?
Sam is an amazing and humble guy. Once, he rushed into a burning building, up six flights of stairs to save a kitten from certain death. He speaks eight languages, has mastered three varieties of martial arts, is a wine expert, and is a pulitzer prize winning author. Sam is an international heart-throb who prefers a quiet evening at home knitting afghans for the homeless, to the go-go, glitz and glamor of the party scene. I think the day he won the silver medal for ballroom dancing at the 98 olympics was the happiest of his life. Pretty impressive for a guy who never finished the 8th grade. - Carrie, 04
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