Sunday, August 30, 2009

Burglary in Ponca

Yesterday, about 10 friends and I drove down to Ponca, AR to go caving. After an hour and a halfish of driving on 412 (my favorite because it's so so windy and hilly) we got to the cave, and made some friends who were on their way out of the cave and who had a rope that went down into the cave entry. We decided that it would be a little hard to free climb out, so we set a time when we would be done so that they could come back and get their rope after we had climbed out. Anyway, we got into the cave and I can confidently say that it was my favorite cave to date. We were caving upstream through a creek nearly the entire way, a bat flew right past my face and through Maddy's legs, we made a makeshift slide inside, and all the while we knew that once we got out we had "50 cent grilled cheeses" waiting for us. And this starts the story that is the actual reason for this blog post.

After everyone was out of the cave (we were thankfully not bamboozled by our Conway/Waco friends, and their rope was still there when we wanted to climb out) we started to drive back towards the little town square that Maddy had been to before. On our way to the cave Maddy realized she had been to the Bed and Breakfast on the square and excitedly remembered their 50 cent grilled cheeses. We're all hungry and excited and I walk into the B&B and ask,

"Do you still have grilled cheese!?" cause it had been a while since Maddy had been there.

Her reply? "No. And even if we did, our grill is closed."

My thoughts replied, "Thanks for the sass and also, it's is your grill closed and what does that even mean??" But my mouth replied, "Oh okay, well can I have a large Diet Coke then please?"

"A dollar sixty," she said.

I open my Hobo. Only $1.26 to my name!! And I can't justify putting $1.60 on my credit card! "Sam (the little brother) do you want anything? Or do you have 34 cents?"

Maddy came to my rescue with "Emmy, it's fine...I'll get it."

"Thanks, sister."

I tell the sassy teenager working at the B&B that my friend will get my drink and head out the door. After about 25 minutes I find out that there is some serious eye-rolling and under-the-breath-cussing coming from the girl in the restaurant when everyone else is ordering milkshakes. Everyone is getting kinda tired of waiting, so we just load up and start driving back to Fayetteville. I'm driving Maddy's car and after a couple minutes on the road I see a police car pull behind me.

"Dang speeding on these fun, windy roads. There's a cop behind me!" I say. Maddy looks at me wide-eyed and says, "Oh no! I forgot to pay for your drink!"

Then I start to semi-freak out, thinking that the girl who did not like us realized my thievery and sent him after me! I try to rationalize, "It was only $1.60! But still, $1.60 that I owe! But surely it's not that big of a deal! But wait, I'm a thief! I'm a burglar! I stole this drink! I need to turn around! He's coming to take me to the slammer!" I consider turning around. I consider scrounging through my car for 34 more cents and throwing the $1.60 out the window. All the while, the cop is in hot pursuit of me. (Not really, but he was tailing me and I felt like such a hoodrat.)

And then it happens. The lights come on!

I pull over and prepare myself for my sentencing. He walks up. I roll down the window.

"Hello ma'am. The reason I'm pulling you over is because you've got a tail light out. Can I see your license?" Sweet relief.

After a couple minutes the cop comes back, hands me my license and says (this is the real quote), "Welp, I called in your license and you're not a criminal!" He smiles and hands it back to me.

My insides are screaming, "Yes I am! I am a criminal! Cuff me! I'm a burglar!" The real words that come out are, "Thank you! We'll get the light fixed! Have a good day!"

So that's it. I'm a thief.

1 comment:

  1. up to no good. big font, minimal effort.