The Time I Rode Home in a Police Car

I have, once in my life, been taken home in a police car. And no, this will not be as story I one day tell my kids…. because it’s super lame. It happened my first time going out during my first year of college. And it wasn’t because I was drunk, or doing drugs or because I was being belligerent or even because I was remotely associated with any of these things. It was because I was a n00b. I was free and living through my first year away from home but not in the way I should have. I was doing freshman year very wrong. I was not trying to make any new friends (which was beyond silly because I basically had zero friends at that time of my life), I didn’t want to try new things and I basically wanted to hang by myself all the time. So when I hear that one of my favorite country bands was coming to our school and student tickets were only $20 I bought one immediately only to discover… I had no one to go with. In addition to that, the concert was during my birthday weekend. That’s right. I was going to spend my first birthday at college going to a concert all by myself.

Also, the concert area was technically still on ground but was about an hour walk or a 30 min bus ride away. But I was determined, I mean I had already picked out my outfit. I wore my one and only, considerably too small, plaid shirt, complete with lace running up and down it, my little bit too long denim shorts and my fake cowboy boots that I had gotten from the 10-13 girls section at Payless (and if you already think the image forming in your head is really weird, just a little reminder that I am a small Asian girl. So to say the least, I stood out). I got on that bus and because I get lost super easily I left way earlier than I needed to, resulting in my showing up an hour too early, and I mean, an hour to early for the opening act. I found my seat and watching all of the other groups of girls talking and having a good time with each other all around me. I pretended to text people on my phone for a bit until the people sitting next to me arrived. Two much younger girls, maybe 15 but more likely 13. The first thing I hear one of them say was ” Look at all these stupid college girls. Don’t they know that wearing cowboy boots and jean shorts make you look like a slut?”  I slipped my feet further under my seat. “Where is your group?” The other one asked me. “Just me,” I replied cheerfully with a smile. “Really?”  “Yeah, I really love this band and didn’t want to miss it just because none of my friends really wanted to go.” The girls looked at each other and then both gave me the same look of pity. “Well, if you need to pee, just let us know and we will move out of your way darling.” Yes, this 13-15 year old girl just called me darling because she felt sorry for me.

On the plus side, The band was awesome. I didn’t even care about anyone else after they opened with one of my favorite songs. The 2 and a half hours flew by. At one point, me and the little girls sang shouted lyrics and each other and danced. I had a great time. I left the arena floating on air and waited at the bus stop to take me back to my dorm. 10 minutes passed, then 20, then 40  and more than a hour and no bus. I started to panic. It was dark and tall drunk guys kept passing me. I called the one suitemate’s number I had in desperation only to have it cut out after my first sentence because my phone died from all of the pretend texting I had done earlier. My panic had reached maximum. I saw blue and red lights in the distance and raced for them. A lady cop was leaning on the hood of her car, looking unimpressed. “Excuse me.” I squeaked.”Yes.” “When will the next bus come?” She looked flabergasted.”The bus? You waiting for the bus?” I felt a drop of sweat actually slip down my face. “…Um, yes?” She shakes her head. “Sweetie, the buses skip this stop after concerts. Too many people, it gets complicated. Didn’t you know that?” “Oh.” was all I could manage. She looked me up and down. “First year?” she asked. “How could you tell?” I asked trying to be funny. She didn’t laugh. But she did put a hand on my shoulder and for some reason, all suddenly I could see was her gun. “Get in the car, sweetie. I’ll take you home.” So there I was. Sitting the back of a police cruiser headed to my first year dorm during my third week of college.  She let me out right in front and passerbyers looked on curiously. But upon seeing I wasn’t intoxicated quickly lost interested. I walked into my dorm suit feeling really ashamed and embarrassed when suddenly the suitemate I had called ran in right after with a few of my other roommates looking alarmed. “You are back! Are you okay?!” I was able to tell my story and somehow found it funnily enough to laugh with them. They best thing about that story. That very girl who I called? I lived with her all 4 years of college and she is still one of my best friends today. So yes, I was taken home in  a cop car my first year of university, but I also have a true friend who I met my first year of university and 2 valuable lessons under my belt. One, don’t be afraid to step outside of your comfort zone. Two, always look up bus schedules before you go anywhere.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,

C

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