Straight out of Superbad

Originally posted in early-July, 2008.

This post contains adult content.

Ashley P, a twenty-one year old girl living in Chicago, had a rather story to share on Sunday, July 6, 2008. Her story, which I found ridiculously shocking, took place the previous week, at about two o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday.

So, I went out Wednesday night; dollar beers, drank before, went to the bar, had more dollar beers. Then got to sing a little bit with the band, not really, but yeah know, to The Outfield "Your Love," one of my favorite songs.

I was with my friend, Sarah. She's really hot, so that works, but she has a boyfriend of like four years, so often times, when we're out, we pretend, I pretend that we're lesbians for her. She's like, "No, this is my girlfriend." She's like, "I like pussies," to like the guys at the bar.

So, my friend and I decide, "Ok, the bar's closed. We're going to leave." So we leave the bar. We're walking down the street, and this cop car stops, right? Ok, we're like, shit, public intoxication, something.

So, they start talking to us, and it's like a real cop car: Chicago. It's not like these fake people, whatever. So, they're talking to us, talking to us, we're drunk. They're like, "Oh yeah, we'll give you a ride."

"Sweet! No cab."

So, we get in the back of the cop car. We're like talking to them, whatever. At one point, I'm waiting for them to be like, "All right, we're taking you... wherever," like some joke, you know? But their like, "Oh no, we'll drive you home," so we're like, "Oh, sweet."

On the way home, they stopped. They bought us some beer. Like, twelve bottles of beer. Yeah, strait out of "Super Bad."

So then, we're still sitting in the back, like, "Oh, this is so much fun!" kind of a thing, and they're like putting on the sirens for us; going through lights. Yeah... and they just bought us beer, how awesome is that? So we’re just loving every minute of this.

So then, they drive us back. They're like, "Oh yeah, we'll come inside." Well, they bought us beer, they drove us home, ok. So, then we're hanging out. They were creepers, a little bit. A lot a bit, but we got to wear the vests, and play with the stick. We got to play with the handcuff; hold the gun.

And then, they let us put the handcuffs on, and I made them let me hold the key. I was like, "I will not put this on unless I have the key," because the next thing you know, I'm going to be like...

We salsad* to a little Enrique Iglesias, at one point, and then they got a call for domestic battery, so they had to peace-out, thank you very much.

And then, I woke up in the morning and was like, "What the fuck did we just do?" Those guys were a couple creepers, and then I realized that I was a little bit immature and should cut back on the drinking, but I haven't changed that yet. And they could get fired for that. They were creepers.

* "Salsad" was Ashley's past tense word for Salsa, the Latin dance.