Chronically Ironic

·Who Wants to Steal a Plant?

So one evening in the late 80’s two of my friends and I are hanging out at my rich friend’s pool, relaxing in the hot tub, just three seniors having girl-type fun – talking, drinking some beer, blah blah. Nothing exciting or anything. We decide to make a run to the corner store, which at that current time was kind of a ramble-down shack called “Ed’s.” We grab our beers and load up into Leigh’s (the rich one) Mustang. It’s Texas. Everyone drinks in their car. It is probably about 10pm, not really late, but alas, Ed’s has closed for the evening. This corner store also served as a semi-nursery, with lush hanging plants and ferns of every size for sale. We pull up and I am sad because, of course, I want snacks.

That’s when it starts going awry. The non-rich friend, Jesse, a gorgeous girl with a head of hair like I have never seen again – strawberry-golden-blonde, huge natural ringlets – her hair looked like every romance novel depicts fire (I was fucking jealous of that hair)…she gets out of the car and says, “Hey, who wants a free plant?” Leigh is laughing, I am going no…no…nonononono. This will end badly, as I am in the car – a minor, with beer, and afraid of the wrath of my mother. As soon as she pulls the plant toward the car door, I hear sirens first then see lights. GREAT.

The cop gets out of the car and goes through the routine – license, registration, all that. At some point, he either sees or smells beer, and makes us all get out of the car. At this time, Leigh decides to pour her entire beer into her purse and leave it in the car. Unfortunately, Jesse and I are not that smart, and get out of the car with beer in hand. He makes us put it on top of the car, and proceeds to tell Leigh that she smells like a brewery. The cop calls for backup (for real!!) and gives Leigh a real smart-ass remark about living in a half-a-million dollar house (address on driver’s license) but stealing a $10 plant. I can see my entire little high-school life passing before my eyes, as I am scared shitless of cops, my mom, and what will happen when those two forces collide. I am probably crying like a wussy little bitch. I dramatically point my finger at Jesse and say to the scary policeman (and his backup by now,) “It was HER!! SHE wanted the plant!!! I didn’t want anything to do with it!!! I (SOB) JUST WANTED SOME CHEETOS!!!!!”

I am the worst kind of person. I am a rat. I do not realize this until this particular moment in my life. Faced with no friends and jail or Cheetos, the orange deliciousness wins every time.

We don’t go to jail, but Leigh’s dad has to come down to Ed’s and tell the cops that he will make sure we all are soundly reprimanded. We all get Minor in Possession tickets. I never tell my parents.

I have since changed my rat-like ways, never wanting to face again the ugly underbelly of my psyche pushed into a corner.

Glories of the 80's