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| i dare you. volume two. | 11.24.2003 | |
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 [part two of my previous post. the story picks up following our introduction to officer quimby, the D.A.R.E. instructor for our sixth grade class.] every week, officer “quick draw” quimby, as he insisted on being called, would wear the same police officer costume and tell us of another peer pressure technique that we could “cooly” avoid in a really unrealistic way. and each week, he would hand out black licorice to anyone who even remotely participated in discussion. which wasn’t all that inspiring, strangely, since everyone knows how popular black licorice is with eleven year-olds. D.A.R.E. sucked. every week, the same grind. we longed for quick draw quimby to come in wearing a sweater vest, pockets filled with funyuns; and for him to drop all this drug crap in favor of an oral critique on last saturday’s saved by the bell. we were kids. the only things we peddled on the playground were smarties. although... we were crushing them, then inhaling it, nasally, through straws. once, quick draw asked if anyone had any exposure to illegal narcotics. no response. not even after he waved around his licorice. finally, this kid jon talked about how his parents sell cocaine for a living, and they borrow his boat-shaped mirror to cut it on. quick draw’s eyes grew wide, “you have a boat-shaped mirror?” jon nodded. quimby continued, “i used to have a boat-shaped—hey, what kind of boat is yours?” jon shrugged his shoulders, “i don’t know. like... a sailboat or a barge—“ “a sailboat or a barge? kid, you don’t know a damn thing about boats, do you? mine... was a schooner! and secretly, i’m wondering if your’s is a schooner too!” quick draw always sounded like such a dork when he talked about boats. then it happened. shroeder challenged the D.A.R.E. officer to a dare. after hearing what it was, he balked at the “dare” stage, however, he caved with “double dare”—fearing an impending physical challenge. the following week, toward the end of our lunch period, we all gathered just inside the school’s north entrance. patiently, we waited for mrs. mast to return from lunch. within five minutes, mrs. mast’s blue sedan pulled back into the parking break. and, oh yeah! she was followed by three police cars with their lights flashing and sirens roaring. “pull over!” a bullhorn blared. not knowing what was happening, mrs. mast stopped her car in front of the school. suddenly, four cops jumped out of their vehicles and rushed the blue sedan. the policemen screamed random commands: “get out of the car!” “put your hands up” and “frisk her.” then one policeman yelled to another, “get the bitch!” we all raised our eyebrows, and watched an officer return with a yorkshire terrier. it wasn’t a real sniffer dog, because they weren’t allowed to get one of those for practical jokes. as the school board members began arriving for a meeting, the officers had thrown mrs. mast against her car, cuffed her, and “found” a crack pipe under her seat, several hypodermic syringes, a cuban cigar, and an overdue video rental that had demi moore in it. one of the officers had the terrier sniffing the backseat, and another was ripping up the plastic dashboard. by now, the officers had mrs. mast lying face down on the cement with her hands cuffed behind her. an audience had gathered, including: the superintendent, nearby residents, the ladies auxiliary, the bookmobile, and two-thirds of the local tasty creme’s staff. to satisfy the onlookers, a display case was set up for all of the “evidence” found in the sedan; and the tasty creme staff was vending ice cream cones. after a mere twenty-five minutes, quick draw quimby jumped out from behind a bush, and explained that the whole spectacle was a practical joke. we burst out of the north door laughing as hard as we could. everyone else... whether they stood in silence or laughed heartily with us... was really enjoying those tasty creme cones! sure mrs. mast was mad... but mostly at officer quimby. of course, that only lasted until 9/11 when you weren't allowed to be pissed at uniformed officers anymore. but from that point on quick draw was our hero. in fact, that year, after gwendolyn's father overdosed... quick draw was there to hug and console her mother at the hospital. and rumor has it, her new sister was "made" that day, on her dead father's hospital bed. |
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| 7:57 am | xander said this. | |
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