This is the second part of this post….Holy Moly Police Raid!

I was right on a can’t-ever-turn-back moment of dining on dog food. My brain was in overgrear praying that something would keep me from having to do this. That something came in the form of a police raid on the biker club. It was like a B-grade movie with people jumping out windows, scurrying under tables, dashing off off to hide in the johns. But, of course, we had no idea where in hell anything was to hide in/under/behind, etc.

I looked up and there was some type of geisha girl standing in front of me. But, then I realized, that it was my friend, Andrea. Her face had gone white and she was walking with tiny, little baby steps.What the heck was she doing? I had a fleeting scene in my mind of her going up to the cops and offering them some saki and a massage. Turns out that she was actually on the brink of fainting. She began to fall toward the floor and her boyfriend grabbed her at the last minute.

Ok…here’s where I tell you about Andrea. Andrea and I were roomates at college. I was/am from a larger city than Andy. I embarrassingly truthfully admit that I had much more experience than she did with doing wild stuff, like smoking weed, drinking heavily, dressing slutty for warm weather. I was usually the one who got in trouble with our dorm mother. On the other hand, both of my roomates were very naive country girls. They milked cows, helped butcher beef, went squirrel hunting, and had probably never drank anything stronger than a near-beer.

They were great roomies. They bailed my butt out of trouble more than once.

Back to the raid…….the cops saw Andy almost hit the floor and went straight to our little group. They assumed that she had partaken of much of something. But, all she had had was Coke. Just a whiff of her breathe proved that. The cop looked at me and smiled. That’s it! Then he turned to our guys and made them assume the position….hands on walls, legs spread. This could have been a big bad incident if my boyfriend/husband had not started sweating like a state fair hog.He began to pat him down. He got to the area around his armpits and quit. I’m sure that he did not want to shove his hands into sweaty, hairy armpits or anywhere nearby. So, he told him that he was OK and could put his arms down. Now, what was not known (even by me) was the Captain American UnderpantsKangaroo  Yuppie White Boy had a revolver stuck in a shoulder holster and the cops had come within inches of finding it. That would not have been good.

We heard it from a regular that the cops had been doing raids there looking for illegal narcotics, stolen property, and a murder suspect. They arrested a few guys for drugs and on some outstanding warrants and closed the bar down. This bright much joy to me personally because I was still dreading the Alpo casserole.

I was ready to go home. My bandana was askew, my mascara (heavy black) was running down my face,I smelled like a tobacco processing plant, and I wanted to take a 3 hour soaking bath. Please I had to pee and didn’t want to venture in their by myself. Andrea had glued herself to her bf..who is 6 ft and 300 lbs and wasn’t about to leave his side.

But….OH NO!….the nite was not finished. The President of that chapter of The Avengers invited us to his house to continue partying. Our chap. pres. agreed and all the stupid ass guys went along with the decision.The “ol ladies” were pissed. There would be no poontang passed out in paradise that night.

We rode a short distance to the house. It looked fairly normal on the outside when we rode up. I looked to my right to see a biker tying his woman/aka ol’ lady to a pole in the yard!Seems she was sloppy drunk and a very verbal sloppy drunk. He said he would untie her when she shut up. She didn’t. He went in the house.

The inside of the house did not match the outside. It was graveyard motif…..which included 4 or 5 real tombstones that had been robbed from a nearby graveyard.There was a lot of nice electronics in the house. The guy who lived there started giving us a run-down of each piece and how his ol lady had smuggled it out of K-Mart under her jacket, down her pants, in her purse, or just rolled out the back in a shopping cart. She worked at K-Mart but I have a huge hunch that she didn’t work there for much longer. It looked like she had single handedly emptied their electronics department.

It was around 3:00 and I was tired. I said something about going home and felt 20 pairs of eyes turn my way. It seems that this was going to be an all nighter. But, the ol lady of the house was kind enough to show me some sleeping bags and blankets set up for us. Martha Stewart, she was not. Elvira…..yeah, she could have been. Ya see….my little comfy sleeping nest was right between 2 of those old scary tombstones. OMG! I was going to have to sleep between 2 stones stolen from people who had died at least 50 years before. I just knew that one or both of them would haunt me. So, I did the most logical thing. Found something with some weed, smoked a bunch, found something with some Jack Daniels, drank a bunch……got immediately shit-faced and sleepy.

I crawled on my hands and knees to my lil spot of Heaven, jumped in the bag, zipped it up, wiggled down until even my head was covered, and fell asleep. As I drifted off, the smell of graveyard and sweat that was already in the bag filled my nostrils.

Next chapter….the party continues!