Saturday, April 3, 2010
Getting Pulled Over on Melrose.
I have no problem talking about this because at this point all of you know me. If you don’t well get ready. I’m 29. I suck my thumb. There, I said it. It’s not all the time. Only when I’m tired or happy which is %75 of the time. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I stopped for a while. Then I started again.
I don’t do cocaine. I don’t gamble. I don’t like whores. I drink casually but not to a fault, and I pay my taxes. I am however a little flamer because I suck my thumb. It’s not hurting anyone. Well, it almost did today.
I live in Hollywood, West Hollywood to be exact. It is the gay part of town. No Homo. I get checked out left and right by men and I don’t mind because they wear cool shirts. I also wear short shorts to go running because I have this philosophy that if you are running in short shorts no one cares, but if you’re walking in short shorts you look like queerbait. So in an effort to stay thin I run in short shorts so that I can’t stop running in public. Today I’m wearing bright orange short shorts and I weigh 183 Lbs.
I should write a book.
I dropped my car off to get an oil change and I went running. I came back thirty minutes later and got my car to drive it home. This is on Melrose Ave. So I’m driving home on Melrose Ave and I decide because I’m both tired and happy because I worked late last night and got no sleep, and because the sun and fun of this state is infecting me. So I’m tired and happy. I start sucking my thumb like a little boy on the tire swing that just had a good sandwich and juice box sorry, Capri-Sun.
I’m cruising down Melrose in my 1994 Acura Vigor, tan, with clear windows. I’m suckin my thumb and it’s feeling so good because I’m happy and chillin in California. I’m thinking about food, my girlfriend, how cool my haircut is, how much I weigh, what I look like in pictures, what my father’s up to, what it’s like to have breasts. I’m checkin my reflection out, I’m checking out pedestrians, I’m jamming to classic rock. I’m in the zone.
Then I hear the sirens behind me. Not one, but two cop cars are pulling me over. I have not been pulled over in California yet, and as I go to turn the next street to stop my car I drive up on the curb out of nerves. I thought I was going to get my car impounded, or my license revoked. Who knows? I thought all this because I still have TWO bright white NY State license plates on my 1994 Acura Vigor, and you have 30 days after you arrive in CA to switch both your license and license plates. That’s how attached to NY I still am. I’m willing to get pulled over just so these bitches know who’s in town.
I’m wearing my bright orange short shorts in West Hollywood, and to top it off I’m wearing an extra small I heart NY t-shirt, because I want to see if my short shorts philosophy works on the upper body. They walk up slowly, four of them, and compose themselves.
“Turn the car off.”
I turn it off.
“You have problems driving?”
“No, Sir I was just a little nervous.”
“Was it that? Or you were too busy sucking your thumb?”
I put my head down in shame. I thought of a couple excuses, but…
“License and registration.”
I hand them my stuff.
“You know son you have 30 days to change you license and registration in CA or it’s considered that you’re driving without a license. So basically every day your driving around you’re breaking the law, and today you almost hit a cop car and drove up on a curb because you were sucking your thumb.”
He looks at me. I look back at him. Giggle, and bow my head in shame. I’m wearing short orange shorts, a tight NY t-shirt, and I have 2 NY State license plates. I should be eating salami, smoking Marlboro lights, wearing a visor, and cursing like a truck driver to represent my state. Instead I’m sucking my thumb and wearing orange shorts. He takes my info back to the car, and the other cops behind me laugh at me through my rear view mirror. After a while he comes back to the car and hands me my info back.
“Get your California license Matt,” he says.
“Yes sir, On Monday,” I say.
“And stop sucking your thumb…idiot.”
The moral of this story is this:
I got pulled over for sucking my thumb.