Parties and Cops, Name a Better Combo?

Parties and Cops, name a better combo?

Running from the cops isn't a very "healthy" experience, but it is by far one of the more bizarre and exciting things I've ever gone through. I can't say I wouldn't like to go through it again, but at the same time my "Ego" seems to suppress my "Id" on this one. I don't exactly know the single reason for my desire to repeat such a treacherous event, but my analytical mind definitely comes up with a few logical conclusions.

I like treating this experience and the events around it like a short story. The setting is a warm summers night in a rich neighborhood of Avon Connecticut. Avon is the town in which my cousin Seth resides. The characters in the story are myself, Seth, Mike, John, and John's reluctant girlfriend Sarah. The introduction is Seth and I sittingin the family room of his parent's newly renovated house.

Crisis number one, I turn to Seth, "Hey what are we going to do tonight?" "I don't know let me make some phone calls, it's barely eight fifteen, not much starts till 9:30." I can't remember if it was the mochacinno I had just downed, or my general impatient nature, but I was fidgeting uncontrollably to get out of that coarse family room and out to some party. To my excitement however, Seth was extremely resourceful and one phone call was all it took before we were off, burning rubber at 65 mph in his swift Honda Accord. In a few minutes time I found myself sitting on a sticky seat at a nearby McDonalds. Cheeseburger in hand and mouth I was trying to make conversation with both Seth's friends and my stomach, which both seemed very interested in talking to me. At this point in the story our party is ten people strong. Because I am not from the area I find myself doing most of the listening and little of the talking. The girls in the group hold most of the conversation, which consists largely of gossip revolving around who's having sex with who (not in those words), and about some large party at one of their friend's houses. The first crisis is finally solved when the group decides to "stop by" the party. My better judgment dissects "stopping by" as more like getting really drunk, passing out and waking up the next morning. Either way I am excited.

Crisis number two, we pull up to the party which is a relative mansion with a three-port garage, a Mercedes in the driveway (along with a bunch of other peoples cars), and about three stories of drunken high school students. The crisis is that this party is definitely going to get busted. Whether it was from the train of cars leading out from the house's driveway, the loud music, or whatever other nonsense, it was obvious to us (everyone in Seth's car) that the members of the local law enforcement agency would paying a visit soon. I was feeling very indifferent to the whole situation as I figured being an out-of-towner, I would be somewhat "immune" to any harm, I was wrong. The other passengers of the car had quite different opinions. Mike was the first to speak, not being a man of many words he promptly said, "Uh guys, lets just get some beer and leave." John, who in my mind showed the most leadership, was quick to try and restore our confidence. "There is nothing to worry about guys, just make sure you leave with Seth, and don't leave the house with alcohol." "What can they do to us, their just cops, they can perform acts of oral sex on my lawyer (not in those words) for all I care." Following his mini-speech John and his girlfriend Sarah got out of the car and went in. All of us were influenced by John's speech and we followed. We walked into what was one of the crazier parties I had ever attended. Crisis number two was put on hold.

Crisis number three is what I like to call the climax of the story. Not a singular crisis as the previous ones, but rather it is what I like to call being crazy and doing stupid things because of it. After being in the party for a while I started to feel like a sponge. I absorbed, alcohol, skin, temptation, drugs, and at the same time was leaking it on to other things. Time wasn't very coherent and before I could follow it closely it was already 1:15am. The party was still moving fast but my mind was slowly catching up. I soon remembered what our primary worry was, and in a panic began looking for Seth. Mike was with him and learned that cops had driven past the house. Because I was visiting I also learned that Seth had a 1:45 curfew. Mike didn't mind leaving, and it seemed that the party was slowing down anyways. We got John and his girlfriend Sarah and proceeded out to the car. Mike followed behind us along with two six packs, and about 12 other kids who wanted to leave. Mike, John, and I got in Seth's car while the other kids got in their respective vehicles. I sank back into the plush upholstery and prepared to pass out. However, just as I was sinking in, the penetration of blue flashing lights into my retinas triggered a surge of adrenaline and I was instantly alert. The blue lights also set off a huge response of "OH SHIT" within the car and everyone began to panic. Still being drunk, I wasn't completely aware of what was going on. Before I knew it, the air around me seemed to pressurize and repressurize in two successive slams and the car felt a little less full. Mike and John instantly took off and began running, a cop followed suit. I looked left at Seth, took a deep breath and before I knew it was sprinting along the concrete down a dark semi-lit road. A voice yelled out, "Stop!",

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