I had forgotten all about that outstanding arrest warrant until the state trooper pulled up behind my car and turned on his lights.

I had driven to Pennsylvania from New York to visit a girl. When I got into town I called her house. Her mother answered. Her mother hated me. I told her who I was and asked if Vicki was home. She said no, then told me to be there at 7 pm. I found out later that Vicki had a date with another boy, who her mother hated more than me. Is that win-win?

We’d talked a couple of times on the phone but hadn’t seen each other for six months. We drove around and got to know each other again. I dropped her off at home and drove to New Jersey to stay with a friend. He wasn’t home. It was too early to drive into the pine barrens where I’d drive off a back road deep into the pines, roll out a sleeping bag, and sleep under the night sky. Thoughts of the Jersey Devil were always on my mind when I did this, but somehow I always survived.

I stopped at a bar and found myself in a conversation with guy named Phil. He was about my age. He didn’t have a couch, but said I could sleep on the floor of his apartment. The next morning I invited him to come along with me to Pennsylvania. I pulled into my girlfriends driveway. He jumped into the back. She got in the front. She was hungry so I drove to her favorite hamburger joint, an off-the-wall fast food restaurant with decent burgers.

On the way my two passengers talked. Phil is a funny guy. He talks a lot. Vicki, also a talker, is quick witted. They were rolling by the time we pulled into the restaurant parking lot. The security guard standing outside the restaurant became the target of their ridicule. By the time I got out of the car he looked like he was going to cry. He was seriously overweight. The uniform didn’t help. If you were watching this onstage, the comedic material would have had you rolling on the floor. The poor guy didn’t know what hit him. He didn’t even try to verbally protect himself.

He disappeared into the restaurant. They were laughing when the state trooper pulled into the parking lot and stopped behind my car. I was leaning against the hood. The trooper got out of the car. You know who he approached. Yeah. “Is this your car? Let me see your license, registration, and insurance card.”

I handed him my license and sat down in the passenger seat to get the other documents. “Have you been drinking?” I didn’t answer. All I could think about was how much fun my two friends would have driving around in my car while I sat in jail. He asked me three times before I answered. “No sir.”

“What’s in the bag,” he asked. A large paper grocery bag sat on the back seat. Let’s see, forty pounds of marijuana. Do I really look that stupid? Pretty much every piece of clothing I owned fit in that bag. “My clothes,” I replied.

“Open it,” he said. I reached over and grabbed the bag. He stepped back, placing his hand on his gun. Oh yeah, I also have three shotguns and a machete in there. I opened the bag. “Wait here,” he said, and returned to his car.

My friends stood back a ways on the sidewalk, smirking. The trooper didn’t appear to be paying any attention to them. The security guard never showed his face. I wonder if they’ll still be smiling when he puts me in handcuffs for that parking ticket I never paid in New Jersey. The trooper returned. “Stand up,” he said. He handed me my documents. “I’m going to let you go, this time. I better not get any more calls about you. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” My so-called friends returned to the car laughing hysterically after he drove off. On top of that they still wanted to go into the restaurant. “Get mine to go,” I said. I probably should have let them walk home.

P.S. Don’t worry. I did eventually pay that parking ticket, but that’s another story.