Just Another Saturday Night

So I had an odd weekend. Well, I take that back. I had an odd Saturday night; the rest of the weekend was pretty ho-hum.

I helped box the leftovers from a library sale for Cover to Cover Saturday afternoon, then headed home. As I drove past the liquor store near my house I saw the first intimation that tonight was going to be One Of Those Nights. There was a line.

Out the door.

Of the liquor store.

Now, this sometimes happens at New Year’s, or the Fourth of July. Or pretty much any time there’s a holiday and the locals need sedation or lowered inhibitions. See, down in Portland they’re pretty classy when they drink. (Well, mostly.) Out here in semi-rural Vantucky, we’re more like, hmm, how do I put it? Well, we’re kind of like Portland’s trashy older sister. The one with the jeggings, blue eyeshadow, and the perpetual can of Coors. Normally I like that about this part of town–there’s not a lot of pretension.

Sometimes, though, it gets weird.

So I got home, intending to lock my doors, pull the shades, and just let the neighborhood stew in its own inebriation. As a matter of fact, I was sitting at my desk, looking out my writing window onto the street, fooling around a little bit on Twitter, when…look, I’ll just post the tweets, okay?

When the liquor store has a line out the door, you know it’s time to go home and lock your doors. #holdme

Plus: naked man in wheelchair rolling down my street. When did this become a college town? #littleconfused

I just…I did NOT need to see that. *sigh*

So there I was, about to pull the shades in the living room even though it was still sunny. And then.


YOU GUYS. HE IS DOING LAPS. #hideyoureyes


I want to go out in the front yard and find out what he’s singing as he’s riding his motorized wheelchair, naked and throwing firecrackers.

I suspect it is “We Are the Champions.” But I’m not gonna go find out.

Monica Valentinelli and Yasmine Galenorn both wanted me to go and find out. My response?


A few minutes later, the fuzz rolled up.

Annnnnnd cue cop car. Lights, siren, the whole works. I pity the poor officer having to sort THIS one out.

I am going to sneak out in my driveway and see if I can observe all shady-like. #cannothelpmyself #stopme

So, yeah. I tiptoed out to the end of my driveway–actually, I have to be honest here. I hid.

In the hedge.

Twenty minutes or so later, I was back to report. (Monica was actually worried about me.)

Well. THAT was interesting.

Hang on while I get a glass of wine. My nerves are shot.

Okay. So I learned a couple things tonight. 1. Naked people are slippery and difficult to handcuff.

(Although you could file that under things the cops learned, not direct knowledge. At least, not tonight.)

2. Naked man in electric wheelchair cannot outrun cop car. #lifelessons

3. He was indeed singing “We Are The Champions.” I am faintly disturbed that I called that one. http://youtu.be/xdCrZfTkG1c

4. Naked man was perfectly capable of running. Evidence: he scrambled out of the electric wheelchair and bolted down the street.

Toward me.

While I was hiding in my hedge.

5. Two pretty heavily-laden cops have a difficult time chasing down a naked running man. Boy could move, even though he was barefoot.

6. Catching a naked singing man is difficult when he’s throwing firecrackers.

At this point I should note that he had the string of firecrackers lit before he bailed out of the motorized wheelchair; he ended up flinging them when they started popping and crackling.(Lucky he didn’t blow his fool fingers off.)

7. He ditched the lighter in my driveway.

8. While Naked Running Man had speed, he did not have endurance. Cops caught him near my neighbor’s mailbox.

9. They were amazingly gentle with him. He kept yelling that he wanted Shannon to call him back.

10. They assured him that she would, if he would behave, and he settled right down.

11. Well, kinda. #lifelesson: After they have the handcuffs on is the wrong time to begin negotiating. Or writhing.

12. Two cops can indeed carry a naked squirming man back to their car. He tried passive resistance.

13. It didn’t work.

So tonight was a learning experience for us all.

At this point Twitter was exploding with questions.

Note: The wheelchair is stuck down the street in another hedge.

Also note: the cops looked back at me standing in my driveway. They didn’t ask a single question. Maybe it wasn’t worth it.

I’m not sure if this is the kind of situation that just explains itself, maybe?

Best part? I get to keep the lighter. #score #earnedit

Two more cop cars came by afterward, lights but no sirens.

For those of you asking, no, I am not going to kipe the wheelchair. Think of where it’s been.

The lighter was a black plastic Bic, plenty serviceable. After I washed it. And I should note that the officers were very gentle with Naked Singing Firecracker Man. I think they figured he had enough problems already.

Neighbor just came by. “So…did you see that?” Me: “Ten bucks says wheelchair’s gone by tomorrow.” Neighbor: “You’re on.”

Neighbor: “Did you catch what he was singing?” Me: “Queen.” Neighbor: “…I can believe you know that.”

I won the bet. I don’t know if the cops came back to get the wheelchair, or if someone else decided to joyride. (Both are equally likely.) I also do not know if Shannon will ever call the naked man back. (I hope she doesn’t. For her sake.) I did end up pulling all the shades.

Kids: “It’s still light, why are you–”
Me: “Shhh.”

Of course, the kids were back in their rooms, on their respective computers. They didn’t hear a thing.

I’m not sure if I should feel as relieved about that as I do.

So. How was your Saturday night?

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