Water Fuzz
While boating with friends during Memorial Day weekend, a police boat pulled us over. I considered taking my earplugs out, but then decided it would probably be best for me to play dumb. My four other friends had a long conversation with the two officers, far longer than I hoped for. The only thing I heard was the officer repeatedly say “$2,500 fine.”
I scrolled my friends’ expressions to gauge if what I heard was correct. They seemed calm, certainly more relaxed than I was.
I became impatient. I wanted the coppers to leave so I could find out what was going on. One of the officers was asking us what we did for a living. When the officer inquired about my profession, Mr. Mountain Dew said, “Ben is…” Mr. Mountain Dew hadn’t a clue what I did or how to describe it. He looked at me and spoke loudly so I could hear. “Ben, what do you do?”
I don’t even know what I do. I pulled it out of my ass: “I’m a Junior Acquisition Specialist at a Government contractor that assists Government agencies with their performance-based procurement.” That's how you end shit. Not knowing how to respond, the officer blundered about his daughter living near DC, or some other pointless tidbit, and then they left. I took out one earplug. “What the fuck just happened?”
Mr. Mountain Dew had jumped off the back of the boat, while moving, ten minutes prior to getting pulled over. Mr. Mountain Dew was about to jump again, seconds before the police boat flashed its red and blue lights and before we noticed it near us, but for some reason unknown to him, he waited. That was a blessing. We were given only a $100 fine because three of us were illegally sitting on the sides of the boat.
Whenever you’re held down by the popo, spit off some bullshit about acquisitions and procurement and other terms you don’t actually know the meaning of.
I scrolled my friends’ expressions to gauge if what I heard was correct. They seemed calm, certainly more relaxed than I was.
I became impatient. I wanted the coppers to leave so I could find out what was going on. One of the officers was asking us what we did for a living. When the officer inquired about my profession, Mr. Mountain Dew said, “Ben is…” Mr. Mountain Dew hadn’t a clue what I did or how to describe it. He looked at me and spoke loudly so I could hear. “Ben, what do you do?”
I don’t even know what I do. I pulled it out of my ass: “I’m a Junior Acquisition Specialist at a Government contractor that assists Government agencies with their performance-based procurement.” That's how you end shit. Not knowing how to respond, the officer blundered about his daughter living near DC, or some other pointless tidbit, and then they left. I took out one earplug. “What the fuck just happened?”
Mr. Mountain Dew had jumped off the back of the boat, while moving, ten minutes prior to getting pulled over. Mr. Mountain Dew was about to jump again, seconds before the police boat flashed its red and blue lights and before we noticed it near us, but for some reason unknown to him, he waited. That was a blessing. We were given only a $100 fine because three of us were illegally sitting on the sides of the boat.
Whenever you’re held down by the popo, spit off some bullshit about acquisitions and procurement and other terms you don’t actually know the meaning of.