Ever have a funny/interesting/awesome run in with the law? Want to incriminate yourself on a worldwide-scale? Submit your stories here.
I live in a fairly crime-free suburb on long island. Police get bored easily, and so do teenagers. One night, two of my friends and I decide to be real thugs and go walk and climb our elementary school. On the way, my stupid friend finds a bike tire on the side of the road, picks it up, and begins rolling it. We don't drink or smoke weed, but we had so much f*cking fun rolling that tire down the block. At the school, we fail at climbing the building, ditch the tire, and go to head home when two cop cars stop us and begin questioning us. Are we doing drugs? Are we drinking? We answer honestly that we're not and they say they got a call about 3 teens with a bike tire climbing the school. So, my stupid friend says, "But officer, we have no bike tire." RELUCTANTLY the cops let us go on that. To this day I thank that bike tire.
My mom recently stole a shopping trolley from the store near our house to help her carry her groceries home. Last night I tried to return it to their parking lot and on the way there got stopped by police who threatened me with theft and suspected drunk and disorderly to scare me. Thanks mom.
My father, a professor of chemical engineering, once ran a summer lab in Vienna, Austria, and on the flight there from America there was a layover in Amsterdam. At the time, I was about eight years old, and therefore wearing my super-cool sneakers that light up when you run in them. When the security guards saw the batteries in my shoes on the metal detector, things got ugly. For over an hour my entire family was interrogated about possible bombs in an eight-year-old's sneakers. We convinced them of our innocence in the end, and a guy in a flak jacket dissected my shoes just to be sure. And all because Nike was too lazy to do a decent marketing campaign in Amsterdam! Needless to say, I've stuck to the bare basics of footwear since.
The other day my friends and I decided we wanted slushies. So we drove to Cumberland Farms. Of course the closest Cumbies was the one that was the hardest to get into, let alone park because there are only three small spaces on the side of the building. When we arrived I began to pull in as I see a huge truck parked right in the middle of the three making it impossible to park in either one of the left over space. As I started trying to enter into one of the small spaces I got really annoyed and yelled "This f****** guy has to park in the douchiest f****** way ever!!" All of a sudden a guy in a cop uniform walks out of the place right when I said it and stated "Hey potty mouth don't hit my truck!" I was mortified, I backed up and drove away and refused to go back until i was certain he was gone. Meanwhile all my friends could do was laugh at my humiliation.
I grew up in Blaine, WA so my friends and I went up to Canada regularly since the drinking age in British Columbia was only 19 at the time. After weeks of begging, my friends and I agreed to take this weird kid with us. Of course, at the border we were told to pull into the the station thing where a border patrol officer asks each of us if we had a criminal record. The weird kid pipes up and tells the officer "I had a sexual harassment charge that was dismissed for lack of evidence." The officer asks why it was dismissed and I said "Because he doesn't have a dick." The officer didn't stop laughing for about a minute and told us we could get back in our car and go through. No search or anything.
One night after spraying graffiti, we decided to spray a stencil of ours on a big advertisment board. We were kind of loud, since we had to unpack everything again and shake the cans. Since we ran out of posterboard we decided to get some from the busstop down the road, where the circus had hung up some.
Needless to say we got some pliers and went to work. It seemed that someone called the cops on us, when we were making such a racket before with the stencil. As we were walking back, me carrying huge stolen posters, a cop car pulled up and stopped on the crossroad. We were absolutley terrified. My friend then proceeded to give me the okay signal. I started walking by only to see and hear the two cops bent over looking at what seemed to be the GPS, arguing about whether the described person had long blond hair or short brown hair. I walked by carrying huge poster boards in my hand with the circus printing on it. As soon as we got around the corner we ran like hell and hid inside.
The cops drove by four times. If only had they looked up.
My friend and I were pulled over on a busy road for a routine traffic stop at 3am. The officer asked us for our license and registration. We said we didn't have either. When the officer asked why not we replied, "Because we're on Razor Scooters."