Mall Jail, Part 3

 For part 1, click here

For part 2, click here

So, here's the boys' perspective:

The boys were minding their own business, when they were hankering for a corn dog.  Who could blame them? The sweet, corn-y goodness that Hotdog on a Stick churns out? Could make angels cry. Seriously.

But, they were drunk.  Shitfaced on Bacardi 151, slurped from an Aquafina bottle or two.  in a mall, where impressionable children hang, with their corndog-buying mommies.  Oh, and sexist jokes about women?   Not appreciated.

So after they were ejected?  P realized he would not be meeting up with the ladies, as planned.  And we are some scary bitches.  So, he left SK on the curb outside the mall, and went back in real quick to buy a sucking-up gift to please his lady, that is going to be pissed when they pull a no-show.

SK?  He thought the best place for him was in P's Jeep.  So he staggered through the parking lot, moving from bumper to bumper, looking for a Jeep to crawl into.  Dear God, WHY wasn't YouTube invented yet?  Can you even IMAGINE some drunk motherfucker, barely able to walk, bumper surfing?  And then, what if he had FOUND a Jeep?  Who knows where he could have ended up.

He finds his way back to the front of the Mall, and sits on a curb, hoping someone with upright capability will find him.

But then, the tummy gets to gurglin.  It also may have been, oh, 110 degrees.  In the Midwest.   So, SK does the only smart thing---he leans back, and very discreetly begins to vomit into a hedge.

At some point, the retching gets so involved, he has to completely abandon decorum.  He is open legged, resting his elbows on his knees, vomiting on his own shoes.  Repeatedly.  Soon, he feels a presence.  he looks up, and there are about 8 Mall Cops, shading the sun.

Just then, P comes out of the Mall, with a peace offering for his lady.  The Mall Cops say, "Hey! Aren't you the guy we just kicked out of the Mall?"

Things, obviously, went downhill, culminating with their Mall Jail Experience.

Tulsa PD had them in detention, with the Mall Cops chomping at the bit for serious charges.  P was scathing, spewing profanities towards the Mall Cops, but the model of respect toward TPD.

The Mall Cops had gotten their Mall Cop Supervisor involved, and he was trying to get to the bottom of this mess.  He had two twenty-somethings, handcuffed, shitfaced, in his office.  One was actively barfing into a metal wastebasket. After a spell, he spoke to SK.

"Boy, I am sick and tired of talking to a waste basket.  Sit up!"

SK slowly pulled his head out of the bucket, did a self-assessment.  He was acutely aware that the little demons spinning his brain inside his head at an alarming rate worked exponentially faster when he was upright.  So with dramatic pause, SK uttered, "this ain't happenin'"  and back into the bucket he went, until it was time to be released.

Meanwhile, TPD took over, while the Mall Cops swished their flashlights in the hallway.

Seems they were telling some jokes, of the sexist variety, in the Food Court.  Either the Lemonade Girl got huffy, or a mom with kids snitched.  Either way, security was called, and the boys were ushered to the nearest exit.

:::Mall Jail, both boys handcuffed. SK's head in wastebasket:::

TPD: So, what was the joke you told, that got you in so much trouble?
P: As you can see, sir, we are in quite a bit of trouble, I'd rather not repeat it
TPD: C'mon now, son.  I like a good joke as much as the next guy.  And I just can't imagine what you said, that started all this trouble.
P: Sir, as I have said before, I would much rather not share, and avoid additional trouble.
TPD:  Tell you what-I won't hold it against you.

:::sigh:::

P:  Okay.  "what's the useless piece of skin around the vagina?"  "The woman".

(TPD about lost his damn mind, laughing so hard.  You see, he was a bit put off being dragged out to the Mall, along with 7 or 8 or his buddies, all for a couple drunk and disorderlies. So his patience with the Mall Cops?  Thinner than a comb-over in the wind. But, the Mall Cops were so pissed with P's mouth, TPD felt they had to do SOMETHING. At this point, TPD was trying to figure out how to get these two drunks home, without having to drag them to real jail, while still placating a bunch of underpaid over-important flashlight holders.)

Once all the details were hammered out, both boys signed off on trespassing, as well as a 6 month Mall ban.  (Really?  Banning two men from a Mall?  Seriously?  The only people that hurt was me, and S. And maybe future corndog sales.)

The boys were released to me and S, and we schlepped their asses back to the house, for MOST of us to get ready for work.  P was the bartender----that's what they do best, work shitfaced.  But SK?  He was done. DONE.  As in, lay him on the sofa with a towel below his mouth, face down, so he doesn't aspirate on his own vomit kind of done. Then, send a barely functioning drunk by the house a few times, to make sure he's still breathing.

P wasn't done being belligerent, yet.   Here's the deal.  While we were driving back to the place to get ready for work, I was less than thrilled with Mr. Almost-blew-his-education.  I had not been joking when I mentioned that an alcohol violation would ruin his career. It would end it. Airlines do not hire pilots with alcohol offenses.  At all. So, our entire time in Tulsa, far from family and friends?  Would have been a waste.  Combined with HUGE student loans.  I was, shall I say, non-plussed.  And P chastised me for my lack of support of my man.

P: Why are you being such a bitch??? You should learn to be supportive, to stand by your man, when he needs you.
Me: Are you fucking kidding me right now?  I am VERY supportive, I called his work, told them he was too busy vomiting in the Mall Security Office to call in sick to work, and NO, I did not mention that his particular brand of food poisoning was Bacardi-inspired.  I did NOT mention that, instead of getting ready for work, he was narrowly avoiding arrest.  And you're questioning my ability to stand by my man?  IF he survives this day, it will be because I was too busy working two jobs to support his ass instead of choking his damn neck, while he is passed out on your couch rather than contributing to our bills.  So, the next time you want to question my devotion, my dedication?  Go fuck yourself, instead.

It kept going, the entire time we were getting ready for work, mostly yelling from room to room, him questioning my dedication to my man, me explaining in vivid detail how incredibly stupid I thought they both were.

SK distinctly remembers one very small point of this day.  He remembers hearing P chastise me.  He remembers thinking, "Dude, you rock.  Thanks for standing by me.  But P?  You're gonna lose."

Me?  I got the perfect revenge: I married SK. And, I started this blog.  Next time you see him? Ask if he wants a shot of 151.

Mall Jail, Part 2

For Part 1, click here


So there we are, thumbing through this giant book, trying to figure out what in God's name the Mall Security area would be listed under. We finally figure it out, and this is what they say:

Mall Cops: Yes, they are here.  They are in custody and TPD* is on the way.  You might wanna hurry.

*TPD= Tulsa Police Department.  Not good.

We jump in S's new car, and haul ass over to the Mall.

Now, this is Tulsa's biggest Mall.  It's huge-there's like, 5 anchor stores.  When we zoomed off, we had no idea where in the hell we were headed. We entered the vast parking lot, not sure where to begin. Fortunately, the Mall Cops had their lights in full Panic Mode.

We zeroed in on the quite large congregation of people.  Before S could fully stop, I jump out of the car, swinging my 25 pound purse like a medieval flail. (I'll wait while you look that one up.)

As I walk up, I see that there are roughly 10 Mall Cops, surrounding one loud guy (P) and one pathetic guy, standing in a puddle of his own vomit.  All I hear is P spouting off:
"Here come our wives, and they're gonna kick ALL your asses".

I walk up, apparently exuding enough heat that I get everyone's attention really quickly.  All heads turn toward me.  I say:
You, (to P), you need to shut the fuck up.  You all (to the Mall Cops, and now a few members of TPD) need to be patient while I work this shit out.  You (SK), I can't even fucking look at you.  You are a mess.

At this point, they seem to assign a 500 pound Tulsa's Finest to corral the crazy.  

By this time, S has joined up with us, and the Mall Cops are arguing what to do with SK. Standing has not been kind to him, and the Boys in Blue were getting sick of being his legs.  There was some talk of EMSA (the guys that give very generous $400 trips to the ER).  I spoke up pretty damn quick: "Umm, no, he's fine.  SK, get your shit together, you have no insurance. You are poor.  You need to stand."  This seems to help matters.  The convo turns to how to get SK into their designated Mall Jail.  No one really wants to take responsibility for the drunk puker, for obvious reasons.
 
"Well, he can't walk through the mall, he can't hardly walk.  And, I don't want him puking inside the mall".
"I'm not putting him in my car, I just washed it".
"He can't go in mine, either."
"I guess we could put him in the back of the Bronco".

So there is Sky King, loaded, handcuffed, into the back of a Bronco, being driven around to the Mall Jail access.

That's right.  They have a Mall Jail.  Apparently, this type of stuff happens enough that they have a place for it.  Color me relieved, that we are dealing with Mall Felon Professionals.

We follow them around the mall, and the boys are ushered in.  We are left outside with a few of the TPD guys, who chat us up.

I'm waxing poetic on the merits of being with a juvenile delinquent that finds getting shitty at the Mall socially acceptable behavior.  I must have really been gaining some serious steam.  At one point, a very large, very tall cop says to me, "it's not that big a deal, you should calm down." Umm, regardless of the amount of ammo on your hip?  Don't tell me to calm down.  I counter with, "Calm down?  Are you fucking kidding me?  He's 23, in flight school, living in Tulsa ONLY to go to school to become a pilot, and he gets so shitfaced he offends an entire goddamn mall, and ANY alcohol violation ends the career he's spending $50,000 trying to obtain? And you want me to calm down?  You're high."  Then, I went back to swearing and pacing, pacing and swearing.  Also, trying to figure out what to do about the job SK won't be showing up at.

He saw WAY more humor in this whole situation than I did.

And it was touch and go, given the amount of trouble they caused.  Turns out, they were charged with trespassing, and the Mall Cops wanted even more charges brought up.

Tip of the Day:  When people have detained you and handcuffed you, do not be rude.  Do not tell them your girlfriend/wife could kick your ass, and don't sign your violations with a flourish-y "fuck you".  Turns out, they get a bit sensitive.  And, they piss and moan to the Real Cops, to press charges.

Meanwhile, I had to call his work.  Not because I'm thoughtful.  Fuck that---rent was due.  I didn't need Sky King blowing his job over this.  So, being awesome, I called them, and said, "SK is at the Mall, and got sick.  He threw up all over, and is now in Mall Security.  He won't be making his shift tonight".  This was met with, "He will need to call in, himself".  I responded with, "Listen, I'm trying to be awesome, telling you he won't be in.  He won't be calling you, until he has left security.  I will give him your message."

See?  I wasn't going to lie.  BUT, I wasn't going to throw his golden-egg laying ass under the bus, either.  (Golden egg? Who am I kidding? We were scraping by, already with huge student loan payments, and he was a part-time server.  More like, Golden Nit).

Want the boys' perspective?

Stay tuned.

Mall Jail, Part 1

NOTE: Those of you in RL maybe already know this story.  Or, if you don't, you TOTALLY SHOULD.  It's like, classic FFW and Sky King.  

Those of you that read me for my funny banter, and hijinks?  You will totally crush on me even more than you do already.  

Those of you that read me for health stuff?  You get a break today.  You're welcome.  And, I mention proper positioning for someone who you fear might aspirate their own vomit, which is kind of health-related, so there's that.

It all began, way back when, in a wonderful little town called Tulsa OK.

Sky King had left me, to pursue a career in aviation-he wanted to become a pilot.  And, instead of waiting for me to finish college so we could adventure off together, he broke my heart, left me for the Midwest, and told me we "should see other people". THAT is for another post, and maybe an ABC After-school Special. 

I was undeterred. Being a fully committed stalker even at the ripe young age of 23, I finished my degree a year later, and had to choose between the Bible Belt, and a whirlwind trip through Europe with a friend.  I did what any 23 year old would do.  I used the information as a weapon. 

I thought about how amazing it would be to start in Greece, working our way through Europe, following the growing seasons from January through Fall, I even went so far as to go to a bookstore and buy a book* on how to live as a cute young thing, travelling through Europe, working as little as possible.  Lemme tell ya, it was looking good.  I was spunky and outgoing, with a nice rack.  Things were going to go WELL in Europe.

*Note: this was way back when it took 33 minutes to download one pornographic image, so Waldenbooks was The Place To Be.

I called Sky King, who was (supposedly) totally cool with our "seeing other people" arrangement:

Me: Hey!  How are things?  Seeing anyone?
Him: Not really. 
Me:  Cool.  Me neither, too much.
Him: Yeah.  What's up?
Me: Oh, that's right, I have totally exciting news!  Michelle and I, you know that chick from work?  We are thinking about going to Europe, right after I graduate, and work our way around, following the harvest seasons.  We will start in Greece, and then move north when the weather clears up.  It's going to be totally amazing!!!
Him:  Oh.  That sounds......cool, I guess.
Me: Yep!  And I will send you postcards from all over, with pics from all the places I've been!!

:::two days later:::

Him:  Hey.  I was thinking, would you like to move to Tulsa after graduation?  And, from now on, be exclusive?  Like, NOT see other people?
Me:  OK....Sounds great!


So to recap:  Sky King, scared to death I was going to be wined and dined, and romanced by droves of European awesomeness, complete with sexy accents. He did what the average American male tends to do-he panicked.  Me?  I just merely presented him with my exciting new after-graduation plan.

:::fast-forward about a year and a half:::

We are living together, in Tulsa.  I have graduated with a degree that is borderline useless, leading me to a life of wiping babies' asses for all eternity.  But being all badass and smart and shit, I took a job as a social worker with the State of Oklahoma.  However, I also needed to eat, so I took a night job, serving cocktails at a local pool hall (truly, it sounds seedier than it was.  We wore tuxedo shirts, I swear).

Anywho, we all hung out at that pool hall after-hours.  Sky King worked as a food server at a local seafood restaurant, and all the servers would come over to the pool hall til closing. Then we would sop up the liquor in our stomachs with grease, at the local diner, conveniently open at 3 am.

Some days, we even started the day off at the bar.  We would hang out early, have a few drinks.

This one particular day, we were hanging out at the bar, drinking beers and doing shooters (rattlesnakes, if I'm not mistaken). Someone said, "Hey! Let's go to the mall!"  Which of course, is a brilliant idea.

The girls jumped in S's new car, the boys said something about heading to the State store, and were off in P's jeep.

For those of you that live in less restrictive, less depraved states, the "State store" meant "State-run Liquor Store".  In Oklahoma, you buy all your liquor, including the really crazy shit like Everclear and Bacardi 151, at the State store.  Being from California, where we can buy liquor at the same place we get our porn, I didn't really pay attention to that comment.  I wish I had.

So we all head over to the mall, planning to meet up with the boys outside of the Food Court, with plenty of time to head to P & S's place to get ready for work.

You may be thinking, "why are they at a bar, drinking, when they have to work?"  The answer to that is, don't worry. We were drinking at like, 10 am, and no one had to be at work til at least 6 pm that night.  We had PLENTY of time to work that shit out.  I thought.

The girls and I, we meandered and perused, probably bought shit we have since not paid off, I can't really remember.  Because the rest of the day was about to get REAL.

We headed toward the food court---No boys.  Except Mike. He was there.  He had been with P and SK, and he did not look well.  He looked concerned.

Us: what's up? Where are the boys?
Mike:  All I know is, I was on my way out of GameStop, and Mall Security was on their way in.
Me:  Why?  Is that bad?  What happened?

Mike:  :::shuffling of feet, as he realizes that S and I are some scary bitches:::
Well, you see, they might have been just a little drunk.  And there was a situation at Hotdog On A Stick.  They were asked to leave.
Us:  Wait, they only had a beer and a shot each.  How did they get so drunk?
Mike: Well, before we got to the Mall, we hit the State store, and filled an Aquafina bottle with 151. Maybe two bottles.  I dunno.  But anyways, they were pretty trashed, and they were telling jokes and making fun of the Hotdog On A Stick girls' hats.

From here, we booked out of the food court, looking for our guys.  We really had no idea where to go, so we wandered aimlessly.  But apparently frantically enough to garner the attention of a security guard.  He came up to us, asking if we needed help.

Mall Cop Dude: Can I help you?

Us: We need help. We lost some people.
MCD:  :::concerned::: What are their ages?
Us: 23, and 25.

MCD:  OH.  They went that way, after we kicked them out of the Mall. :::walking away, disgusted:::

We booked it toward the exit he gestured toward.  Nothing, nada.

This is when we realize it is coming up on the time we should be getting ready for work, so we head back to P and S's, thinking the guys are there, getting ready.

We were wrong.

Did you know it is incredibly difficult to get a hold of the people that would actually handle Mall security issues?  Did you also know that Malls have little min-jails, to keep people that need keeping?  We didn't, either.

Stay tuned for more!