I got into a bunch of shit when I was in middle school because I lived in shitty public housing (I hesitate to call it the projects... But basically yeah) in Mobile, Alabama.
The ones I remember were:
- Going to a much nicer apartment complex about 30 min away with friends and slicing up their pool lining during the winter because we were jealous and didn't want anyone else enjoying an awesome pool if we couldn't. Cops got called on us but we all gave fake names and addresses.
- I won a badass mini toolset from Chuck E Cheese tickets and realized it was actually perfect for lockpicking. We ended up breaking into empty apartments in our complex and just generally fucking the rooms up. Never got caught surprisingly enough.
- This one is even weirder but our complex used to be full of beehives and since it was so poor they would never clean them out. For someone reason, I decided to take the job upon myself, So I armed myself with my best super soaker and a hefty stick. I don't even remember clearly what kind of bees they were and I actually never got stung amazingly enough. I probably destroyed a good dozen nests over a year or so.
I also did a bunch of crazy shit in high school because I was into street racing. Managed to avoid certain disaster by inches on more than one occasion. I could probably write a novella about all those instances...
The worst happened on a night when I was pissed off at a girl who had spurned me (some random hook up from out of town during spring break). I ended up smoking a joint with my step-dad and going on a joy ride in my Toyota MR2 turbo. Our towns (Ft. Walton Beach and Destin FL) are basically built around a single highway that runs along the coast. So I was gunning it most of the way (going around 160+ mph) until I calmed down and started obeying the rules of the road.
About 10 minutes later after I had slowed down, blue lights showed up behind me and I pulled over. Turns out that right around the start of my joy ride I went by a gas station so fast that the windows rattled....with two cops chilling inside.
So unbeknownst to me, for most of the joyride I had two cops behind me in a high speed chase. They were rightfully furious (I like to think it's partially because they had no chance of catching me) and I actually had a gun to my head as soon as they got out of the far. I thought I was gonna shit my pants right there.
I got cuffed and put in the back of the cop car and that's when I remebered I was carrying a handful of Oxycodone (they were my friend's I swear!) loose in the cargo pocket of my cargo shorts. While I was in the back of the cop car I somehow managed to grab them from my pocket with my hands handcuffed behind my backand quickly gobble the evidence down. Not sure how I did that without dislocating a shoulder but that's basically the last thing I remember before getting picked up from the holding cell a few hours later. I was only 17 so luckily nothing went on my permanent record and because they never could catch me on their radar-guns, I ended up getting out with just a moderately expensive reckless driving ticket.
I never "properly" street raced, but I did have fast cars and drove like an idiot. I had an Opel Calibra 4x4 Turbo, and one night, with three passengers in the car, I did around 280 km/hour (per GPS) on the Spanish highway (max speed allowed 120 km/hour). There was no incident or anything, but later I thaught that was super irresponsible and dangerous.
On another occasion, in another car, I was doing like a 100 km/hour inside town (50 km/h max allowed). I see something blue flashing behind me and think, yeah, some ambulance. I didn't have time to properly look. I came up to a grandma who was like five meters away from passing a zebra crossing but kept on, and then quickly turned right into the apartment complex I was headed to. I stop the car and an unmarked policecar comes to a screeching halt next to me, the cop gets out and accuses me of almost running over the grandma, which wasn't true because at her and my respective speeds, I had like a four or five second buffer to get past the crossing before she would have reached it, and says I was driving absolutely recklessly, which was of course true, and that I was lucky they had some kind of problem with the computer in their car and had to go somewhere, but that I would get a letter from the police and was in huge trouble. I was super nervous and told a frined who's father is a Guardia Civil, and he intervened somehow because I never heard anything about that shit again. Yeah, super dumb of 19-year old me.
I bought a '93 MR2 and was involved in a crash the first day I had it. Entered a town at around 85 km/hour, and didn't slow down because the first houses only come like 500 meters after the town limit. A guy in a series 7 BMW who is at a stop sign to my right looks at me and I think everything is fine, but then the asshole pulls out and I crash into him. I get out and it's some 50 year old English dude full of tattoos, and he says hey it's you fault, let's leave it at that and everyone pays their own damages. I disagreed and called the cops, who gave me a lecture because my braking marks said I was going way too fast, and that I would probably recieve a fine. Never received a fine, but I had to drive around with the smashed car for like six months because my insurance and the guy's insurance were fighting over who was at fault (no shared fault in Spain), and because my insurance was waiting for the police protocol, that police had not bothered to send them after more than three months. I had to go to the station and politely ask for it, where I got another lecture about my excessive speed, but in the end, it was determined the other guy was at fault, because he disobeyed the stop sign, regardless of if I was speeding, and he could clearly see me but misjudged my speed. Then it took another two months or so for the spare parts for the car repair to arrive from Belgium to the Canary Islands, because the MR2 was never sold in Spain and so there were no parts. The upside is, I used to occasion to change the circular Toyota front badge to the JDM badge from the later, convertible MR2 that said MR2 Midship Runabout and had a cool eagle on it, lol.
Yeah, I was a super asshole of a driver. Driving ten centimeters behind other cars who wouldn't pull over, speeding everywhere and spinning my wheels, you name it. It's a miracle I didn't kill anyone or myseld, really. Today, I'm a super different driver, and always obey speed limits and driver super passively. Even when I had my Subaru Impreza WRX here in Germany, where I can drive without any speed limits, I never took it to max speed.
