see, the run-in was just after declaring one of the lumberjack pockets the "chronicles of narnia" pocket on account of its hole. the hole lead to the lining of the jacket. and it was just before my flight to idaho.
it was also the first time i realized the benefit of being honest with a cop.
we'd been pulled over by the san jose crimefighters because of an illegal u-turn and they noticed a small pipe in the door of the car. that pipe was decorative and from new mexico-- it couldn't have been used to smoke anything. there was, for the record, a six inch switchblade which was illegal for three reasons: switchblades are illegal in california, blades longer than your palm are illegal as well, and that particular blade was used for scraping opium into a weed pipe.
but the cop never found that switchblade. it was the decorative pipe that he saw and it was the decorative pipe that allowed him to search the five of us.
i had several reasons why being searched was a horrible activity.
1. i was the only one who had weed.
- 6 individually bagged grams in a tape cassette case inside my lumberjack chest pocket.
2. i also had an eighth of hallucinogenic mushrooms in the lining of my jacket, via the chronicles of narnia pocket.
3. i had to catch a flight to idaho the next morning to visit my sister and the rest of our family.
4. i had a $3,000 warrant out for my arrest.
when the cop asked if i had anything i might want to turn forward before being searched i handed him my tape cassette of marijuana. there was no way a frisking would miss that. and i think he respected my honesty because the frisk that followed was rather lazily done.
he noticed my pants pockets were full and asked what was inside. i pulled out my cell phone and $240 in cash, but left the gram of weed inside. and while there was a small part of me that felt proud to successfully hide one gram of marijuana, a larger part was afraid the officer might be able to put together what the six individually bagged grams, $240 cash, and a cell phone might have been involved in.
but the cop didn't question it. all he did was ask me if i had anything else on me before moving to the other passengers. i remember the feeling being roughly as scary as the time i saw a bear outside of the zoo. i definitely still had an eighth of mushrooms on me and possession of a hallucinogen is quite a bit more serious than possession, or even intent to sell, marijuana.
but the chronicles of narnia pocket saved me. the cop thought my jacket pockets were empty and the mushrooms went undetected.
when i was called to the cop car for further discussion, i told the officer i was aware i had a $3,000 warrant and that he had to arrest me but asked that he kindly did not. i told him that i had a flight to catch in the morning and that the flight was to see my sister in rehab. i told him our family was having a very rough time and that i was three months from moving to college in hopes to fix everything i could. this was the first time i had told any cop a story that was 100% true. usually my stories would involve diarrhea, or the phrase "social experiment" and hardly worked. but this time i was honest.
and the cop didn't arrest me.
in fact, he even wrote me a new court date so that my warrant and my new possession of marijuana would be cleared on the same date in one simple hearing. then he wished me good luck with my family. i think i mumbled, "to serve and protect" to myself as i stumbled out of his car.
if you have never been close to shitting your pants, a good way to experience that dangerous sensation is to find yourself selling weed and mushrooms with a warrant while sitting in a cop car trying to convince him that going to jail just won't work well with your schedule.
and getting away is like an orgasm.
all of these things went through my mind while i was at the tuxedo interview. i had worn the jacket mostly because i had no other jacket, but also because i thought it might show i had a unique sense of style. if i was trying to sell tuxedos, i was going to need to look like i had an eye for fashion. unfortunately my getup made me look like a combination of a homeless man and a evangelical priest.
either way, i found myself standing on a desk trying to sell the boss a black bic ballpoint pen upon request. his thought was that if i could sell the pen, i could sell anything. and that i should stand on the desk while selling because i reminded him of elvis.
i tried to focus on its sleekness and monochromatic simplicity. i mentioned its recognizable brand name and familiar style.
but the whole thing was stupid.
i wanted to tell the boss that i was selling weed and mushrooms, and that while those goods may be somewhat inelastic and require no standard salesman, i still had learned a fair amount of how to talk confidently and up-sell customers.
but it's hard to convince yourself into talking about drug-dealing at your first interview.
i didn't get the job, in the end. but i don't know if it's because i failed the interview or because the boss was arrested a week later.
evidently, he was selling cocaine and coked out the majority of his days. there's even a good chance he didn't remember interviewing me at all. both ways, he was arrested for selling coke and i was not hired at the tuxedo shop.
in hindsight, telling him i sold mushrooms and weed might have been an excellent way to get the job.
but in a different kind of hindsight, i'm pretty glad i never got that job.
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