Parties and Cops, name a better combo? Running from the cops isn't a very "healthy" experience, but it is by far one of the more bizarre and exciting things I've ever gone through. I can't say I wouldn't like to go through it again, but at the same time my "Ego" seems to suppress my "Id" on this one. I don't exactly know the single reason for my desire to repeat such a treacherous event, but my analytical mind definitely comes up with a few logical conclusions.
I like treating this experience and the events around it like a short story. The setting is a warm summers night in a rich neighborhood of Avon Connecticut. Avon is the town in which my cousin Seth resides. The characters in the story are myself, Seth, Mike, John, and John's reluctant girlfriend Sarah. The introduction is Seth and I sittingin the family room of his parent's newly renovated house.
Crisis number one, I turn to Seth, "Hey what are we going to do tonight?" "I don't know let me make some phone calls, it's barely eight fifteen, not much starts till 9:30." I can't remember if it was the mochacinno I had just downed, or my general impatient nature, but I was fidgeting uncontrollably to get out of that coarse family room and out to some party. To my excitement however, Seth was extremely resourceful and one phone call was all it took before we were off, burning rubber at 65 mph in his swift Honda Accord. In a few minutes time I found myself sitting on a sticky seat at a nearby McDonalds. Cheeseburger in hand and mouth I was trying to make conversation with both Seth's friends and my stomach, which both seemed very interested in talking to me. At this point in the story our party is ten people strong. Because I am not from the area I find myself doing most of the listening and little of the talking. The girls in the group hold most of the conversation, which consists largely of gossip revolving around who's having sex with who (not in those words), and about some large party at one of their friend's houses. The first crisis is finally solved when the group decides to "stop by" the party. My better judgment dissects "stopping by" as more like getting really drunk, passing out and waking up the next morning. Either way I am excited.
Crisis number two, we pull up to the party which is a relative mansion with a three-port garage, a Mercedes in the driveway (along with a bunch of other peoples cars), and about three stories of drunken high school students. The crisis is that this party is definitely going to get busted. Whether it was from the train of cars leading out from the house's driveway, the loud music, or whatever other nonsense, it was obvious to us (everyone in Seth's car) that the members of the local law enforcement agency would paying a visit soon. I was feeling very indifferent to the whole situation as I figured being an out-of-towner, I would be somewhat "immune" to any harm, I was wrong. The other passengers of the car had quite different opinions. Mike was the first to speak, not being a man of many words he promptly said, "Uh guys, lets just get some beer and leave." John, who in my mind showed the most leadership, was quick to try and restore our confidence. "There is nothing to worry about guys, just make sure you leave with Seth, and don't leave the house with alcohol." "What can they do to us, their just cops, they can perform acts of oral sex on my lawyer (not in those words) for all I care." Following his mini-speech John and his girlfriend Sarah got out of the car and went in. All of us were influenced by John's speech and we followed. We walked into what was one of the crazier parties I had ever attended. Crisis number two was put on hold.
Crisis number three is what I like to call the climax of the story. Not a singular crisis as the previous ones, but rather it is what I like to call being crazy and doing stupid things because of it. After being in the party for a while I started to feel like a sponge. I absorbed, alcohol, skin, temptation, drugs, and at the same time was leaking it on to other things. Time wasn't very coherent and before I could follow it closely it was already 1:15am. The party was still moving fast but my mind was slowly catching up. I soon remembered what our primary worry was, and in a panic began looking for Seth. Mike was with him and learned that cops had driven past the house. Because I was visiting I also learned that Seth had a 1:45 curfew. Mike didn't mind leaving, and it seemed that the party was slowing down anyways. We got John and his girlfriend Sarah and proceeded out to the car. Mike followed behind us along with two six packs, and about 12 other kids who wanted to leave. Mike, John, and I got in Seth's car while the other kids got in their respective vehicles. I sank back into the plush upholstery and prepared to pass out. However, just as I was sinking in, the penetration of blue flashing lights into my retinas triggered a surge of adrenaline and I was instantly alert. The blue lights also set off a huge response of "OH SHIT" within the car and everyone began to panic. Still being drunk, I wasn't completely aware of what was going on. Before I knew it, the air around me seemed to pressurize and repressurize in two successive slams and the car felt a little less full. Mike and John instantly took off and began running, a cop followed suit. I looked left at Seth, took a deep breath and before I knew it was sprinting along the concrete down a dark semi-lit road. A voice yelled out, "Stop!", but the words couldn't hook themselves around my ears to pull me back. The voice dissipated and I didn't feel anything tugging me back to the car, but still I kept on running. I looked left and saw a park, I ran through it. I got back onto the road, and a seemingly familiar light was once again flashed into my eyes. A car was racing towards me; I turned around and dashed back into the park. I heard the squealing of tires followed by a similar and paralyzing words as the one I had heard earlier. The voice yelled out, my feet slowed down, but as I heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind me another burst of adrenaline kicked in and I was running once more. I was running and panicking looking for any possible sign of escape. I saw a set of tennis courts to my right lined with fences, I changed course and was running as fast as I could towards the metal wall. I latched onto the barrier like a spider and quickly climbed up, the voice once again was there. I climbed over and jumped down. I landed hard and experienced yet another paralyzing like sensation. My elbow and heart now pulsed in equal time and a lot of moisture had seemed to collect on my arm. I stumbled to my feet and saw a figure running around to the other side of the fence. It was a cop and he was yelling at me, I couldn't make out the words but I had to escape. Opposite of where the cop was, was the door leading out of the court, I opened it and charged through, once again running. There was now a grassy slope to the fore of me, it was wet and I found myself traversing down the hill like a skier. I didn't care about the cop, or the voice at this point, I just kept on running. I thought about football, or rugby and about getting to the end zone scoring the touchdown, I just kept on going. The hill flattened out and there was a stream, I ran through not realizing how deep it was and tripped this time bruising my knee. I picked myself up only to see a large light shining just in front of me. The cop was at the top of the hill watching me as I clumsily fell through the stream. I got through it, kept on running, and slowly felt the presence of danger subside. Crisis number three was escaped.
With time on my hands I checked out my physical situation only to find myself with a large scrape on my elbow and a swelling on my knee. I patted down my pockets hoping none of my belongings were missing and to my fortune everything was intact. I saw streetlights in the distance and casually walked towards them. I was once again out of the park and back onto the road. Still a little intoxicated I stumbled into a convenience store and rushed into their bathroom. The whole impact of what just happened caught up to me and I began vomiting. With my head in the toilet I felt as though I was relieving the stress of the entire situation by vomiting, it was oddly relaxing. I cleaned myself up, bought a drink, told the cashier to have a nice night and left the store. Having recollected myself I went to a pay phone and called Seth's cell phone. Our conversation consisted of maybe three sentences, "Where are you," "Citgo" "Okay, I'll be there in five." So now the conclusion comes around. I went to sleep that night with one of the biggest rushes I've ever had, I got away from the cops, whether I did something wrong or not it was a really great feeling. I figured that it wasn't so much that I was committing a crime, but that there was such a huge rush, such an exhilaration and racy feeling that I doubt I could ever reproduce it under normal circumstances. And that is what makes it so special, it's a unique experience, sorta like your first kiss, or first fight, something you will always remember and can never really re-experience.