“Ma’am, are you okay, ma’am?” The Officer asked, shining his
flashlight in my face.
“Huh?” I said, as the fog lifted from my brain and I began
to register where I was, “This is not my beautiful house, this is not my
beautiful—“
“--Ma’am, you were behind the wheel of that large
automobile,” he interrupted, nodding his head in the direction of a rented
U-Haul truck, “when you rear-ended this Toyota Camry here. Can you tell me what
happened?”
My mind raced as I tried to piece together the details. Then
I remembered my hair stylist, Mary F, called me up and asked me if I would help
her move. Now this bitch ain't one for day labor, that’s what the parking lot
of Home Depot is for, but she said that she only needed somebody to drive a U-Haul
truck for her, and that she would give me a free cut and color [not it’s not
that the carpet doesn't match the drapes, but I thought I could mix it up a bit
with some highlights or something, and lord knows I have a hard time saying no
to free shit, so of course I said I would].
I showed up at her place and the U-Haul was all loaded up, she had even crammed some funky smelling plants in the front passenger seat. When I had asked her why she didn't just stick those in her car with the rest of her herb garden, she told me that she had to split up the garden, just in case. It struck me as odd, but whatevs, free cut and color. Besides, she has always been a little wacky anyway.
I had been driving down the 405, the smell of the plants filling the cabin of the truck, when traffic had slowed to a stop. But there was something in my head that told me not to stop, just to keep going—
“Oh my god, its just like ‘The Happening,’” I cried out to
the cop as the pieces clicked into place. The cop looked puzzled. “You know,
the movie, the one with Marky Mark!” I said. The cop still didn't register. “The
one with the plants that make people kill themselves!”
“Sounds like a dumb movie.”
“It was, but that’s what happened! It was the plants, they
were trying to get me to kill myself, they’re turning on us!” I exclaimed pointing
to the plants in the cab while pulling my t-shirt up over my mouth and nose to
filter out the brain controlling plant pheromones. The cop walked over to get a
better look at the plants then came back and pushed me onto the trunk of the
Camry. At first I thought he was being a bit forward, but he was pretty hot, so
I was game, until he started to read me my Amanda Rights [or whatever they
are].
“What are you arresting me for?!” I protested as calmly as I
could with my face pressed against the trunk of a car in totally a
not-as-fun-as-the-fantasy-is kinda way.
“Ma’am, you are under arrest for transporting a highly
potent strain of marijuana plant. This plant is so potent that even being next
to the plant will get you higher than balls.”
“But this isn’t my stuff, I swear,” and just as I was saying
it, I wondered what percentage of the people on the show Cops were only guilty
of being tricked into helping a friend move. The cop was loading me into his
car when I saw Mary F nervously drive by with her car filled with contraband
plants.
I had better get more than a cut and color out of this shit…
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