well, i suppose i’ll start with what i think is the best part: the absolutely true story of how Wife very nearly got herself arrested this weekend.as most of you know, this past saturday was the annual harvard-yale game, held this year in new haven, connecticut, also known as the happiest place on earth that could make you want to kill yourself. Poshua got us a zipcar, and he, Maggie, the wife and i agreed to meet downtown in the morning to drive over to the infamous Asshole Of New England.
running maybe a little late (as we tend to do), but basically on schedule, the wife and i leave home and skip on down to the subway station entrance on the corner, knowing full well that her metrocard is finicky and there is no human teller at this entrance. i swipe in and wait while she furiously and repeatedly slides her card through the reader, to no avail. a kindly (and maybe a little shady) gentleman at the next turnstile sees her plight and offers what help he can.
"quick," he says, "come through with me."
obedient and easily confused as she is, Wife hops in the turnstile behind Sketchy Guy and shuffles through. the three of us reunited on the other side, we turn and see...
Dismayed Cop staring us right in the face.
"I need to see ID from both of you," he says to W. and S.G.
but, oh no! i failed to mention that W. has lost her wallet two days before. she has no license, no credit card, not even an expired college ID. she explains this to Dismayed Cop, and he remains dismayed. fortunately, she has her office ID on her, and even more fortunately, she is pretty and appears very innocent. D.C. questions her: "when was your last summons, or ticket?" She furrows her brow, confused.
"ticket?"
"yes, ticket. or summons. do you have any unpaid fines?"
she has no idea what he is talking about. she pulls her metrocard out of her wallet in an attempt to answer his question. i turn to the cop and inform him that she has none, because she is as pure as britney spears before that whole justin timberlake fiasco.
D.C. turns to the two perpetrators and says, "i need you both to come with me."
not wanting to miss any of the action, and knowing we can't leave for new haven without my partner in crime, i follow along. D.C. orders the criminals to wait outside of a mini-police station (is there anything the subway doesn’t have?) while he goes in and checks their records. meanwhile, some off-duty policemen appear and decide to have some fun with the situation. one particularly cute one (i really wished he had been in uniform) pulls out his handcuffs and approaches menacingly until every last bit of color has drained from W's face, then cracks up laughing, as do i. another one questions her seriously about all of the "issues" on her record, until she breaks down and admits to having gotten a speeding ticket, once. meanwhile, the whole situation is so hilarious to me that i can barely contain myself. D.C. eventually returns and begins writing W. a ticket. i am disappointed to see this, as i had naively hoped that she would be set free to coast through life purely on good looks and sex skills; however, D.C. informs us that she is being let off easy.
"you had nothing on your record, so I'm going to let you go with a ticket," he says, "but this guy--"
he indicates S.G."--he's going to jail."
we turn to see S.G. being cuffed and prodded away, presumably to the subway prison. i strain to overhear what he's done that is getting him arrested, but i can’t really get too much of what they are saying. i think it was peter braunstein. D.C. continues to explain that, technically, when you get caught committing a violation and don’t have proper ID on you, you are supposed to go to jail. essentially, if she hadn't been so darn cute, W. would have missed h-y and spent the weekend in the slammer. which would have sucked for her, but would have been really funny for me.
the moral of the story: next time you break the law, have your license on you. or at the very least, be attractive.
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