Stupid Criminals Carry More LSD On Their Car Dashboard Than They Can Possibly Consume At Any One Time

In California it is a crime to transport drugs in your automobile. If you are caught transporting illegal drugs in your car, with the exception of marijuana in some cases, it can be a felony for which you can have severe consequences if convicted. So, it is very important to remember that you should never take drugs, and never carry them in your car; however, if you are going to take drugs and carry drugs in your car you definitely should never carry more drugs in your car than are for your personal consumption.

Now, I tell this story merely because the statue of limitations has run out long ago. I’m reminded of when I was a young lad driving a 1968 Ford Fairlane through the foothills outside of Bakersfield, California in a practice known as “boonie bouncing.” Bakersfield was a small town, and what we used to do was for fun and adventure was to go out into the foothills and try to chase and catch jackrabbits with the car. Of course the jackrabbits were always much quicker and much smarter, but, be that as it may, it was always good fun to try.

While pursuing jackrabbits one evening I saw a very familiar red light on the horizon. As it got closer it became more and more apparent to me that the red light was an impending police car. Being concerned, of course, that the police may ask some very embarrassing questions about my erratic driving patterns in the middle of the night pursuing jackrabbits at a high rate of speed I also realized that I had resting on my dashboard five hits of lysergic acid diethylamide, otherwise known as LSD. As I figured out it was the police I quickly consumed all five hits. Driving poorly was one thing, but I knew that possession of LSD was quite another. The officer did not see me eat it; I was not arrested for consuming it; I was not even under the influence of it at the time I was arrested.

I was arrested, but amazingly I was not arrested for driving off-road erratically and fervently pursuing jackrabbits, but rather I was arrested because I had neglected to pay a five dollar jaywalking fine for having failed to obey a “do not walk” sign. I am not kidding. In Bakersfield in those days if you didn’t pay your traffic ticket a warrant would go out for your arrest, and that is exactly what happened to me. I was cited for failure to obey the do not walk sign, and for having failed to appear on that offense. I was jailed.

Now it seems as though I had this curse that every single time I was arrested, and I was arrested at least thirteen times that I can remember, I would always be arrested on a Friday, and sure enough this was a Friday. Now, ordinarily when you are picked up during the week you can see the judge the next day, and the judge can say, “Okay, credit for time served. You are released.”

However, this time I very specifically remember while the officers at the Kern County jail were fingerprinting me and looking at the charges a very rotund Sheriff’s deputy who of all things was eating Pop Rocks candy. It’s this effervescent candy...as I was saying, the rather rotund officer was chewing the Pop Rocks candy which was snapping and crackling in his mouth. He was looking at some sort of computer screen and began chuckling and turned to say something to his friends. “You know what the bail is on this? Five dollars!” They were laughing so hard because guess what - I couldn’t put together the five dollars for bail, and so was looking forward to a very long weekend. Had I five dollars on me I could have been on my way right then and there. They immediately put me into the drunk tank with some very intoxicated and quite filthy winos.

I must tell you this was not my first experience in the drunk tank in the Kern county jail, but this was quite a unique experience indeed. In fact, the walls appeared to be breathing and sweating. People’s faces were changing into weird contorted facial expressions. People’s ears were becoming elongated. People were making weird noises and laughing incoherently. In short, I was undergoing the effects of five hits of LSD, more than I would ever have considered consuming at once, in order to avoid the charge of possession, and with the entire trip starting out on a Friday night in the confines of a Bakersfield jail cell. The next morning while I was gobbling up the revolting Kern County jail biscuits and gravy the young man next to me, who was too disgusted to eat his breakfast, turned and said to me, “homeboy, you didn’t get arrested, you got rescued.”

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