Rolling Yards Story: Busted
In high school, Michael Ray was the man. As the cliche goes, all the girls wanted him and all the guys wanted to be like him. Michael had long hair and he was a bit rebellious, but ironically everyone’s parents loved him. He was a junior when I was a freshman. For some reason, he took me under his wing and so even though I was a pretty big dork, most people thought I was ok because Michael Ray liked me. BTW, Ray is Michael’s last name. To this day, I still do not understand why everyone called him by his first and last name. They just did.
Anyway, one night Michael Ray decided to take a gang of us rolling yards after a Friday night football game. Since I had a curfew and no car (I wasn’t old enough to drive) time was of the essence this one particular evening. After the game, we stripped out fo our band uniforms and hopped in Michael Ray’s Chevy Blazer. In retrospect, I think we beat the people sitting on the front row of the stadium out of the parking lot.
We headed straight to the grocery store where we bought a couple of cases of toilet paper. (Cases. Not packs.) Mind you, the Blazer was full with degenerates. I had to ride in the back, where there wasn’t even a seat. As we were buying supplies, I wondered where I was gonna sit after we put the TP in the Blazer - the whole back end was gonna be full. I soon figured out.
(Kids, if you are reading this. Do not try this at home.)
I ended up laying horizontally on top of the cases of toliet paper. There was probably 2 or 3 inches between my nose and the roof. Seat belt? What seat belt?
Anyway, we ended up wasting precious time, trying to figure out who’s yard we should roll. I’f I remember correctly, there was another car full of degenerates in the disjointed caravan. Since this was before the age of cell phones, we ended up driving around trying to find one another.
Eventually, the inevitable happened.
We’re all laughing and carrying on. Then the blue light comes on and we get pulled over.
As the officer runs a check on the plates, we all agree Michael Ray should do the talking. He’s driving and if nothing else, everyone seems to love him.
Then the officer walks up and shines his MagLite in the back. I lay still hoping that somehow he won’t see me.
He goes up to Michael Ray and says (with the slowest southern draw you’ve ever heard,) “Whut ya’ll boys duin out jhere t’night?”
Michael Ray says, “Oh, we’re just doing a little riding around.”
(Big pause.) Officer says, “Well. (pause) Whadda got all that toilet paper back there fer?”
Michael Ray: “Well, my friend, ummm, ughh, Sam’s got a case of the diarrhea.”
We’re all about to bust at the seams laughing. Mind you, everyone called me George for some reason. Michael didn’t even know my real name.
Then the officer went and checked out Michael Ray’s license and left us sitting in the Blazer, sweating it out.
Finally, he came back and just said, “You boys better get on home now, y’hear.”
Quickly approaching curfew, Michael Ray had to take us all home. Not to be totally defeated, our buddy, Keith, skillfully completed a drive-by by putting a roll of TP on the pole that at some point used to hold Michael Ray’s right side mirror.
November 12th, 2005 at 10:11 am
Oh my gosh, I can totally see that happening. That made me laugh. I was such a goody two shoes, missing out on all the fun stuff like that. lol How did the reunion go??
November 14th, 2005 at 9:50 am
God, I think everybody has a Michael Ray yard-rolling story. Mine involves speeding away over an open field with no headlights on (lest the cops see which way we went) and hitting a rather large ditch in the process.
November 15th, 2005 at 2:44 pm
One correction to the story….Nathan (who was drunk)did the tp on the broke mirror support….Keith was in the back seat with me.
Good times though!
You forgot to mention the deputy trailing us until Michael Ray did the 3 point turn on Dinkins Bottom.