My firm has a charitable giving campaign every yearwhere we raise money by participating in sillyactivities, like trivia contests, guess how manyjellybeans are in the jar, and mini golf playedthrough the cubicles in the office. The whole thingis brought to a close with a costume party onHalloween. You know the drill, stupid costumes, beer,wine, food, beer, and, of course, beer. At the strokeof 5:00pm, the party becomes a ghost town. With noobligation to stay, everyone disappears faster thangood manners on public transportation. I was waitingto meet up with my friend, Jones, so I stuck around. There was no sense letting all that free beer go towaste, so I sacrificed my sobriety for the greatergood of proper resource management.

Jones showed up right on time, a half hour late, at6:00pm. I was already pretty buzzed and Jones hadbeen drinking since 1:00pm. As it turns out, he wason day 2 of what would be a 5 day bender. Way to goJones! We headed out to a shitty Irish bar/Indianrestaurant called "Kennedy's." Yeah, it's an oddcombination, but they have $2.00 Guinness on tap andfree pool on Wednesdays, so that's where we wereheaded. Did I mention it was Wednesday? Just as weturned down Columbus St., I let Jones in on the secretthat I had liberated several beers from my firm'sparty and smuggled them out in my bag. I barelyfinished my sentence when Jones said, "Well, let'sdrink' em now."

I hesitated for a moment... "Okay." Ignoring mybetter judgment, I pulled a couple cans of Guinnessout of my bag and handed one to Jones. He popped thetop and it started to foam over. I said, "You gottadrink right away or it gets everywhere."

"Now you tell me," he said with beer dripping off hishands.

"Well, I thought you knew what you were doing," Ireplied as I demonstrated how to do it without makinga mess.

Jones wiped his hands on the back of his pant legsand we started walking again. At about this time, Ilaunched into my usual schpeal about how I don't likemy apartment and that he and his roommate Dan need tomove out of my old apartment, which they've beenliving in under my name for over a year, and we shouldall go in on a three bedroom place. Jones's answer isalways the same and this time is no different. Heagrees and tells me that he's ready. But when I askwhen he will be able to afford it, he says it will bea couple of months. Doh!!!

We were about two-thirds through the conversationwhen I heard something that didn't register rightaway. Then I heard it again and by this time Irealized what I had heard the first time. The guyplaying saxophone on the corner was saying, "You'regonna get a ticket."

I remembered our beer and looked up to see two copsabout a block away walking in our direction. Immediately, I turned up the cross street and said,"Let's go this way," hoping Jones was following andthat the cops didn't see our beer.

Trying not to give myself away, I didn't look backright away. When I finally did, I saw Jones about 25feet behind me. The dumb ass was pretending to pickup one of San Francisco's free publications andinstead was putting his beer inside the newspapermachine. Now, if I wasn't trying to avoid the cops, Iwould've been rolling. That has got to be one of thefunniest things I've ever seen.

I turned back to my own get away when I heard, "Heyyou. STOP!" Fuck!!! I quickly put my beer down onone of the outside tables of the restaurant I was infront of and then turned around looking completelysurprised. "Come over here," one of the cops said toboth of us.

I started walking towards them when the other coppointed to the newspaper machine and snapped at Jones,"Get that out of there! What the hell are youthinking?" I almost died. Both of these cops weretotally disgusted and I was only able to keep astraight face because of the impending ticket. Jonestook the beer out and put it on top of the machine. "Where's yours?," the pig asked me.

"Over there," I answered pointing at the table.

"Go get it," he said. So, I retrieved my beer. WhenI got back, cop number one was looking at Jones'smilitary ID. I also noticed some girl a few feet awaywatching us get hassled by the Man. We realized laterthat our public consumption had interrupted somescamming between this chick and one of the pigs. Anyway, the cop asked me for my ID and then askedJones if he was still in the reserves.

Jones said, "No."

Then the cop asked, "You have any other ID?"

"I have my New Jersey ID," Jones said as he looked inhis wallet.

The cop took my ID and asked, "You in the reserves,too?"

With ramrod straight posture and my high and tighthaircut, I said, "No sir!" I wonder if he realizedthat I was mocking him. If he did, he didn't show anysign because he went right back to Jones.

"You don't have a California ID?," he asked, as ifJones was saving it for a special occasion.

"I haven't been here that long," Jones told him.

The cop countered with, "You're required by law toget one within 30 days of moving here." Then helooked at me, "And you; You should know better. Youlive here."

"Yeah...," I nodded.

"This is a $97.00 ticket" he exclaimed, as if he wasthe one who was going to have to pay for it. "I'mgonna cut you guys a break. I want you to pour outyour beers and throw away the cans."

I turned and stepped toward the gutter with my beer,but Jones was a little more eager to comply andstarted dumping his beer directly onto the sidewalkright in front of the cops. What a champ! ...Or isthat chump?

"I'd prefer it if you poured it in the gutter,nimrod," the cop growled while rolling his eyes.

"Oh...," Jones muttered and then joined me at thecurb where I was giving the eulogy for an old friend. Damn... It was more than half full.

"Alright, get out of here," swino numero dos said aswe finished dumping our treats.

"Thank you, officer," we both expressed as sincerelyas possible while already walking away.

It was a good thing Kennedy's was only a few blocksaway, but that's another story.