Area Dumbass Locks Keys in His Car at Site of Riots, Is Stupid Dumbass So heres the story. I finally found a way into the site where everything is going down after hitting roadblock after roadblock, popping out just behind the line where police were turning away cars. I parked on a residential street that runs perpendicular to W. Florissant, and the first thing I saw was an armored personal vehicle 40 yeards away from my position loaded with cops dressed in all their military finery. Nearby, I watched other police officers dropping smoke flares on the ground and turning away cars that were coming through. One of the full-riot-gear police stood in the middle of the street, holding a shotgun and telling vehicles and pedestrians alike to turn around and go the other way. Overhead, a police helicopter repeatedly shined a spotlight on pedestrians including myself, flashing it to indicate further that we should leave. In awe of the scene, I stepped slowly out of my car and shut the door, distracted and neglecting to realize I had left my keys sitting on the passenger seat. I figured it out 2 seconds after the door closed, as is often the case in these matters. For a moment I wondered if I should smash out my own window to regain access, as I was in a dangerous area and wanted to be able to flee the scene quickly if necessary, but I immediately dismissed that idea when I remembered that I was in plain sight of a police force armed with various painful means of crowd control, in the middle of an area filled with civil unrest. So I began walking up W. Florissant with no plan whatsoever. I got an eighth of a mile away from my car when I realized that I had no idea what I was doing, so I turned back and headed for the car again to see what I could figure out. As I traveled southbound, I was approached by a police car, whose occupants told me to turn around and go back. I explained that I was with the press and that I cannot leave; I had locked my keys in my car, and could one of them perhaps grab a slimjim and help me get inside? The driver told me that they had more important things to do, but the passenger said, Ill help him. So with police escort, I walked back toward my car. As we got close, I pulled out my camera phone to take a picture of the armored vehicle, much to the chagrin of the officer that had volunteered to help me. Put that away, he said. I didnt bring you over here to take pictures. Irritated, he then he asked me about my credentials. Youre media? Do you have a card or something? I produced one of my business cards, which identify my title as Music Editor / Free Lunch Fishbowl Raffle Champion with the RFT. He handed it back to me immediately. Youre not media; youre out here on your own. I replied, Well, I am with the Riverfront Times. He said, That is not a real media source. I shrugged. At this time he said that no, he was not going to help me, and began walking away, saying You got yourself into this situation. I replied that I know that, but all I want to do now is get myself out of it, and I will gladly leave if he will just get me into my car. He asked, How do I even know this is your car? I began describing some of the things that were in it, which did not impress him. He shined a flashlight inside, and asked me how many keys I had on my keyring. Unsure, I began describing the keys. There are two house keys on there with rubber covers. One is red and one is green. He turned his flashlight off, shaking his head. I, on top of being a general moron, am also colorblind, and had misidentified one of my own keys. Nope, he said, and start walking away again. What do I have to do to prove to you that this is my car? I asked. I can describe stuff in there. There is a Black Lips CD on the console and a motorcycle helmet in the back. He was not impressed, as anyone could have glanced in and seen those things. This exchange went on for 5 to 10 minutes as explosions and gunshots and helicopters could be heard just barely south of our location. Finally he asked me what was in my trunk. The only thing that I could remember specifically that is in there is a large chunk of plastic that had been a part of the rental van Drew Ailes and I had driven last year to the Gathering of the Juggalos. It had been ripped off the bottom of the van when I accidentally ran over a ladder in the street near the event, and for no particular good reason I had saved it. I described it to the officer. If your story doesnt check out Im not giving you those keys, he warned. I told him that was fine, he got into the car, popped the trunk, and then handed me my keys, satisfied. Now get the hell out of here, NOW. He said angrily. I thanked him and immediately complied. Anyway, so the moral of the story is, thank god for the Gathering of the Juggalos. And also, there is seemingly no end to how braindead stupid I can be sometimes, though I like to think of that as part of my charm. Danny Wicentowski and Ray Downs are still out there in the thick of things, doing the Lords work. Please stay safe out there guys, and dont be complete inept buffoons like I am. Let this be a cautionary tale.
Posted on: Thu, 14 Aug 2014 05:07:14 +0000
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