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Thursday, May 11th, 2006
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7:06p - The number of the day is 97
We're getting down to crunch time here as far as the 100 posts goal goes. I need three more posts after this one, and have only two full days until my birthday.
The plan is to make these entries short and detail how I am spending my last days of underage slavery. To start, it should be useful to discuss the main reason why this last year of my life has been spent somewhat sober.
On my 20th birthday, the state alcohol officers were running an operation in Girard. They were literally sweeping the whole town, walking right into bars without any causation and demaning identification.
I was at a local dive called Woody's, where I spent much time until this point. A group of my cousins and friends would frequent it because it had good food, it was cheap, and mainly it was right down the street from me.
At about 10:15 P.M., I was approached by two city detectives and an Ohio Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Agent and told to produce ID. When push came to shove, they discovered that I was only 20. Because I knew one of the detectives well, he told me to leave the premises and that would have otherwise been the end of it.
About a week later, I received a citation in the mail for a violation regarding underage person and was summoned to court the next month. Through some crafty deal-making, my charge was reduced to a minor misdemeanor for disorderly conduct. The fees escalated to a little over $500.
There went the bar hopping. I was also told that because I got off semi-easy the last time, any future offense would certainly result in no less than one month in prison.
What a bunch of bullshit, but I didn't want to go meet Bubba. You can vote, you can die for your country, but you can't have a beer. What's even more fucked up is, you can go to jail but you can't have a beer.
If I was under 18, I literally would have been slapped on the wrist. The cops would have called my parents and that would have been about it.
So, on Saturday the festivities begin at Kuzman's and will be three-fold. One, I turn 21. Two, school is out. And three, I can have my record expunged. Plan on me being very drunk if you happen to run into me.
I'll be the one that's unconcious.
(comment on this)
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