Not that I’m in a whimsical mood; however, writing about an old and murdering friend got me remembering about a time in my life that I’d rather forget.<\/p>\n
Yes, we stole a car. \u00a0A pickup truck to be exact, but don’t get all high and mighty just yet. \u00a0Imagine if Justin Bieber or Lady GaGa was playing at a nearby venue. \u00a0Iggy Pop. \u00a0The Wiggles. \u00a0And you were in a mood to rock out with your cock out. \u00a0Certainly \u00a0you would have sneaked around the neighborhood looking for unlocked cars with keys beneath the floor mats.<\/p>\n
FYI, don’t leave your keys beneath the floor mats, or on top of the visors, just like you shouldn’t leave your wallet in your shoes when you take them off to bowl. \u00a0Sure, it seems like a foolproof idea, perhaps even brilliant at the time, but everyone’s doing it, even the crooks. \u00a0Little miscreants like us, sneaking around with barely enough money in their pockets for nose-bleed tickets to the show.<\/p>\n
We didn’t exactly hit the jackpot. \u00a0The truck was a POS, short for piece of, well, you know. \u00a0A hoopty with a bad muffler and no heat, with a half tank of gasoline. \u00a0An AM radio, and we listened to the Mighty 690. \u00a0We had a stash of beer and a baggie of weed, but I’ll never admit to this in a court of law. \u00a0We had Ozzy on the brain, Crazy Train and War Pig \u2013\u00a0in the field the bodies burning, as the war machine keeps turning.<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0To a couple of teenage boys, that song was the freaking bomb.<\/p>\n Entering the city, we followed the signs the Portland Memorial Coliseum, found parking in a handicap zone. \u00a0Was that wrong of us? \u00a0What’s worse, stealing a truck, or stealing a handicap spot … with a stolen truck?<\/p>\n We bought our tickets and went inside. \u00a0It was our second concert, the first being the Oregon Jam at Autzen Stadium in Eugene, Quiet Riot \u2013\u00a0Come on feel the noise, girls rock your boys<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 with Loverboy, Joan Jett and Night Ranger \u2013 \u00a0Sister Christian oh the time has come, and you know that you’re the only one so say … okay! \u00a0<\/em>And so we were seasoned professionals, cocky and hip, tucka tucka tucka! \u00a0And because we were in a stealing-kinda-mood, we found better seats on the floor, closer to the action. \u00a0We sang along, riding a contact high to the encore. \u00a0We high-fived people that we didn’t know and hugged others. \u00a0We yelled Ozzy countless times, and if felt great. \u00a0What a perfect name. \u00a0Ozzy! \u00a0Imagine Nigel or Benjamin, it wouldn’t have been the same. \u00a0Benjamin, Benjamin.<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0Too many consonants.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n When it was over, we made out with a couple of girls in the parking lot, and then one of their fathers pulled up and honked his horn.<\/p>\n Back at the truck, we threw away the parking ticket. \u00a0Not our problem. \u00a0(I imagine now the poor old man getting this in mail, a parking ticket from a city hundreds of miles away when he was home that night asleep, oh the injustice.)<\/p>\n We must have been the only kids from our small town who attended, because the drive back home was lonely. \u00a0The time was north of midnight, and we were heading south on Highway 26. \u00a0Literally, there was no one else on the road.<\/p>\n The gas was getting low.<\/p>\n There was no way that we were going to make it home.<\/p>\n In this, our time of need, I turned to religion.<\/p>\n I asked God for help.<\/p>\n If we run out of gas how will we suffer the cold or coyotes, there on foot for another hundred miles with snow on the sides of the roads? \u00a0Amid the vast and harsh Oregon wilderness?<\/p>\n Karma, that’s what it was. \u00a0Still, I prayed to God. \u00a0Just do me a solid, oh Lord, and I’ll turn over a new leaf, be better, stop smoking weed and drinking, get good grades. \u00a0Obey the Ten Commandments. \u00a0You name it, I’m there!<\/p>\n The engine puttered \u00a0and then starved, and we were coasting.<\/p>\n God would be putting us to the test after all.<\/p>\n And karma is a bitch.<\/p>\n But I swear that this next part is true, and would do so with my hand on the bible and in a court of law, for sure! \u00a0Fo sho!<\/p>\n From behind us some headlights appeared. \u00a0Another car, and perhaps the occupants were friendly. \u00a0Distant, but closing in on us as we coasted to a stop.<\/p>\n We hit the hazard lights, and waited.<\/p>\n When the car neared, we exited with intentions of flagging them down.<\/p>\n They could have been murdering lunatics for all we knew.<\/p>\n A religious cult.<\/p>\n Gang members on initiation week, out to kill a couple of doped-out honkies.<\/p>\n We had no other options, so please, God, I’ll be good from now on, promise.<\/p>\n It was a white utility pickup truck, and it pulled up behind us. \u00a0 A man exited, and asked how we were doing. \u00a0Asked if there was a problem. \u00a0We informed him that we had run out of gas, and he turned, went to the back of his truck, and returned with a gas can.<\/p>\n “I work for the state,” he said. \u00a0“Canvas the roads looking for people who need help.”<\/p>\n “Are you serious?”<\/p>\n “Yeah. \u00a0I got gas, water and food. \u00a0You boys hungry?”<\/p>\n In fact we had the munchies.<\/p>\n “There’s chips on the front seat,” he said, removing the gas cap to our stolen truck. \u00a0“Help yourselves.”<\/p>\n We ate Doritos while he put gas in the truck.<\/p>\n We must have reeked of booze and pot, but when he was done he just smiled and patted us on the backs. \u00a0“You boys take good care.”<\/p>\n “Thanks, mister. \u00a0You too.”<\/p>\n We started the engine and drove away. \u00a0He followed for a while, and then flipped around and drove the other way.<\/p>\n From the passenger’s seat my murdering friend said, “We got a fatty left. \u00a0Wanna smoke it?”<\/p>\n “Hell yeah, bro. \u00a0Spark that shit up.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Not that I’m in a whimsical mood; however, writing about an old and murdering friend got me remembering about a time in my life that I’d rather forget. Yes, we stole a car. \u00a0A pickup truck to be exact, but don’t get all high and mighty just yet. \u00a0Imagine if Justin Bieber or Lady GaGa … Continue reading Yeah, I stole a car. You gotta problem with that?<\/span>