Thursday, December 9, 2010
Bathroom. Me. Staples. 10 cops....Holy Shit.
Night starts off good. My friend and I. Get to LA Live, settle on Flemings for dinner. Johnny Walker Black flowing freely, good food, time to have fun. Get into Staples, grab two big beers, and we're ready for a show. We see a few friends (remember that) walking to our seats, and I don't presuppose as to what they had to drink, but lets use the "three sheets to the wind" cliche. Quick hello. Onward.
Now, I'm going to understate this because certain people read this, but I was feeling pretty good, really good. The show was amazing, but alas, my first bathroom break calls. So I casually stroll into the huge bathroom and begin my urinal transaction, when all of a sudden everybody starts leaving the bathroom. Initially Im confused, but as I turn my head I notice the entrance of Venue Officials, and lots of them. I'm standing at the urinal, and immediately start thinking, "what the hell did I do?" and this nasty nervousness starts setting in. At this freeze-frame, the head count inside the Staples bathroom is : (1) Allen, (4) Red Coats, (2) Cops, (2) Security Guards (with badges), and there is only one exit. I skip level 1-4 scared, and go right to 5 because I can't figure out what I've done wrong, and Im assuming they're coming for me (remember, I've had a few and I'm not at my intellectual peak).
Did I say something bad? nope.
Did I sneak into somewhere? negative.
Do I have contraband? negatory ghost rider.
Then why the hell am I freaking out?
and how am I going to plan my getaway?
But just as I've concluded that Im guilty for a crime I didn't commit (Ateam), and just as my scare level is eclipsing 8, I see another figure through the mirror reflection by the sink...and low and behold, who is it? The friend we saw 20 minutes earlier that we knew, being questioned by these cops. Relief. Scare level drops 3 points.
But, even though Im not exactly sure what went down, what Im sure of is that I dont want to get in the middle of this. This guy is wasted, and if I walk by and try to leave, all I can think of is that he'll say he's with me, and I'm "guilty by association" somehow. There is no help to be given, no "saving your buddy", because these Officers are absolutely riddling this guy, and preparing for the inevitable tackle & cuffs. But they are blocking the exit, so I stand at the urinal for 5 minutes pretending, freaking out (remember, the room is 100% empty except for me). Then, like a tunnel to heaven, there is a quiet shuffle, and the whole Police parade moves from the door for a second, and I see my exit. Bam. Like a ghost. Gone.
There is more to the story, but for another time. The most interesting part of this was that my mind created the whole situation, and there was really no reason for me to be scared at all. But the kicker for me was that leaving that bathroom felt like Shawshank Redemption. Free at last. Free as last. Lets go home...
Oh wait, Im at a concert that just started.
(postscript): our buddy is fine. Lesson: Never drink 4Loco. That drink is like cocaine + acid put together.